


Headpats

by RavensDagger



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Cute, Danger Chibis, Graphical Descriptions of Adorableness, Little Sisters, Meddling Kids, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2020-10-19 21:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 72
Words: 84,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20664290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavensDagger/pseuds/RavensDagger
Summary: Taylor has the power to copy powers. Only her powers always take the form of a new sibling, a little sister as it were. Will Taylor and her army of little sisters be able to take on the world, or will they drown in a sea of cuddles and headpats?





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

AN: I’m not one for trigger warnings, but since this is a sensitive topic; the first scenes have some suicidal ideation. You’ve been warned.

***

Taylor never saw the blow coming. Maybe it was because her head was low, maybe it was because she expected them to leave her alone on her first day back into the hell hole that was Winslow, maybe she forgot during her week of recuperating that there was no pity to be had.

“Move it, Hebert,” Sophia said as she shoved her from behind. “You fucking worm,” she spat.

Taylor hunched in on herself, flashes of the inside of her locker, of scrambling to escape, passed through her. She had a new locker now. The number and lock held tight in her hand.

She didn’t plan on ever using it.

***

The day passed at a crawl. Every time she saw Emma or her cronies she would flinch back, a bit of her dying inside. She wanted to rebel, to scream, to fight, but that had never amounted to anything before.

The last bell rang.

Taylor walked home with her head bowed. And all along, she felt a bubble of... something, trying to claw its way out of her chest. Anger, raw, visceral anger.

***

Her dad wasn’t home yet. Even walking all the way back, as good a bit of exercise as it was, didn’t take enough time for her dad to beat her home. Maybe it was for the best.

She dropped her school bag by the door, the week’s worth of overdue homework stashed within considered and forgotten in the space of two heartbeats.

She went to the kitchen, looked in the fridge with eyes that saw nothing, then gave up on that. Just an old habit. She grabbed a knife from the rack on the way upstairs. She didn’t look to see which one, just ran a thumb sideways against the blade to make sure it was sharp. She didn’t want to see it.

In the bathroom upstairs, she found herself wondering if it would be easier clothed or not.

She decided that the sight of her naked, frog-like body would be worse than her in her sweatshirt and jeans. More of a mess to pick up too.

The same idea lead to her sitting on the edge of the bath, one leg over the side, left hand facing upwards on her knee. The knife was in her other hand. It shook a little.

Her grip tightened, her eyes went blurry with tears.

She almost stabbed herself in the forehead when she reached up to wipe the tears away, then giggled at herself for the stupid action.

The giggle turned ugly, into angry, raging sobs. She felt the hate burning in her gut like a well stoked fire. It burned hotter.

Taylor dropped the knife, hand pressing up against her chest even as it started to glow.

That was about the moment where she realized that something not entirely normal was going on. The room twisted, or maybe that was just her senses. The knife clattered to the floor. Her eyes closed shut.

Something snapped.

Taylor was leaning forwards, sweat pouring down her brow and hands both holding onto the edge of the bath that she was still sitting on. She took a deep breath, then another.

“You jus’ gonna stay there like that?”

Taylor’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest. The voice was young, with a bit of an accent that she couldn’t quite place. More of a slur, really, as if she — because it was definitely a girl’s voice — had a hard time pronouncing every word.

Blinking back tears and sweat, Taylor looked at the girl standing in the middle of her bathroom.

She blinked a few more times, then rubbed her eyes clear. It didn’t help.

Measuring in at nearly four feet, the dark-skinned girl stood with both hands on her hips and her upper body tilted forwards. She grinned at Taylor, a closed-lipped smile that still had her cheeks pinching up, and revealing a single sharp fang. It might have been a cherubic smile, if her brown eyes weren’t filled with mischief.

“Who are you?” Taylor asked.

The girl huffed and crossed her arms. That’s when Taylor took in her outfit, or rather her costume. She was wearing a onesie. A pitch black onesie with little cat ears on top, the whole thing a size too big for her, if Taylor had to judge. “I’m y’er lil’ sister.”

“What?” Taylor asked.

The girl huffed again, this time stomping one foot as if to make her point. “I’m y’er lil sister,” she insisted.

“That, what?”

The girl shook with repressed anger. “I can’t believe my big sis is this dumb,” she growled.

“Hey!” Taylor said. She wasn’t about to take shit from a girl that couldn’t weigh more than a sack of potatoes. “Who are you, and where did you come from?” she asked as she got to her feet. She almost tripped when she felt a surge of weakness run through her, but a quick grab at the shower curtains kept her up.

“I’m y’er little sister,” the girl insisted. “And I came from you. Moron.”

“What do you mean?” Taylor asked. She was starting to have a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Came from me how?”

The sound of keys in the door downstairs had her pausing. She heard her dad walking into the house, toss his keys into the bowl by the door and hang up his coat. “Taylor?” he called out.

Never taking her eyes off the girl, Taylor turned her head to the side. “Dad! Can you come here?”

There was a pause before Danny started climbing up the stairs. The girl just raised an eyebrow and looked at Taylor quizzically. “What’ch’a callin’ dad for?”

Taylor didn’t have time to question that before her dad stood by the doorway to the bathroom. “What’s up, kiddos?” he asked.

Taylor pointed at the girl. “Her.”

Danny looked between the two of them for a moment. “Did your sister do something? Was she teasing you?”

“What? No, what is she even doing here. And she’s not my sister,” Taylor said.

Danny did not look impressed at that. “Just because she was hogging the bathroom or something does not mean that she’s not your sister, Taylor. Come on, you’re the older sibling here, you should act your age.”

“Yeah, list’n to daddy.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never seen her before!” Taylor shouted.

Danny raised both hands defensively. “Hey, hey, no shouting in the house. Look, I know you’ve had a stressful couple of weeks, but that’s no reason to treat your sister that way.” He turned to leave, then paused. “I’m tossing a lasagna in the oven for supper, is that alright?”

“Heck yeah!” the girl said, one arm pumping into the air in approval.

Taylor didn’t even nod, just watched her dad walk off in open mouthed confusion. Then that turned to anger. “Are you a Stranger?” she asked the girl.

“Nah, I told ya, I’m y’er sister. Moron.”

“Stop calling me a moron!”

“Stop actin’ like one,” the girl shot back.

Taylor stepped closer to the girl, realizing as she did that she towered above her.

The girl stepped back, eyes going wide with undisguised terror at Taylor’s growing anger. Then, with a cringe, she looked back down and her cheeks puffed out. “Sorry.”

Taylor couldn’t bring herself to do anything against the girl. Not that she would have hit her to begin with. The pitiful stance, the big floppy cat costume, the way her hands, which were covered by paw-shaped gloves, came together near her belly. She sighed. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Y’er s’posed to give me one.”

Taylor closed her eyes. “What are you?” she asked.

“I’m y’er little sister,” the girl repeated, this time with none of the heat.

“And you came from me?” Taylor asked. Even as she did, she realized that it just felt... right.

“Yeah.”

“How?” Taylor asked.

The girl looked up to her, lips pursed and nose scrunched. “You poked at the other me, and that made this me. But this me ain’t that me, ‘cause this me’s y’er lil’ sister.”

“Girls!” Danny called from downstairs. “Supper’s ready!”

***

Supper had been a weird, tense thing. The girl sat across from Taylor, in the seat that had been her mom’s. There were no pictures of her around though, no signs that she had existed before today.

Taylor was still not convinced that it wasn’t an elaborate trap.

Maybe Emma or one of her friends had triggered. The idea was nightmarish enough that she dismissed it.

After supper, Taylor excused herself, telling her dad that she wasn’t feeling good and wanted to go to sleep early.

So it was a conflicted and confused Taylor Hebert that changed into pyjamas and started to get ready for bed. She had other plans, of course, and the brash knocking at her door just played into them.

“Open up!” the girl called from outside. “It’s borin’ out here.”

Rolling her eyes, Taylor opened the door to find the girl scowling up at her, fang still sticking out and eyes set in a fierce glare. “Come in,” Taylor said.

The girl stomped in, moved across the room, and hopped up onto Taylor’s bed as if she owned the place. “This where I’m sleepin’?” she asked.

Taylor paused at that. “Where you’re sleeping is something we can figure out later,” she said. “You’re... you’re a parahuman, right?” she asked.

The girl rolled her eyes, then went shadowy. Her entire body turned into a misty, black shape that flowed across the room as if borne on an unfelt wind. She rematerialised a few steps before Taylor, face split into a predatory grin and arms outstretched as if ready to receive an accolade.

“Shadow Stalker,” Taylor said. “That was like Shadow Stalker.”

The girl pouted. “Yeah, that’s who ya touched to make me.”

“I...” Taylor squeezed her eyes shut. “I made you, somehow.”

“Y’er a real moron, you know.”

“Stop calling me that,” Taylor said.

“Nah.”

Taylor could already feel the headache coming.

***

What. The. Fuck.

Sophia stared at her hand. It was shadowy, a mist that she was intimately familiar with. It was also wrong. Her power had always been all or nothing.

She waved her arm around, watching as the wispy shadows followed the motions. Slow, it was slower than usual.

She closed her eyes, concentrated and willed herself to turn into smoke. It worked, but it felt off, weaker.

Sophia started to panic, just a little.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

Taylor woke up from a strange dream, a dream that fled her mind the very moment she opened her eyes and felt the first rays of the sun slipping through her window. 

Then she felt the warm thing pressed up against her side and came fully awake with a snap.

Arms flailing, Taylor pushed the intruder away and off the bed. She almost screamed when it took all the blankets with it and left her uncovered on the bed.

A few moments later a familiar form popped up as she jumped to her feet. “The heck ya do that for?!” she screamed at Taylor.

Taylor flinched back, then glared. “What were you doing in my bed?” she asked.

The dark skinned girl’s cheeks turned an interesting shade of purple. “The couch wasn’t comfy. So I slept here.”

“I didn’t give you permission to do that,” Taylor said.

“I ain’t need y’er permission for shit.”

“I... fine. Don’t do it again,” Taylor said as she climbed off the bed, picked up the jumbled mess that her sheets had become, and tossed them onto her mattress. She rubbed at her forehead, hoping to knead the headache away. “If you’re really my power, I got the worst power ever,” she said.

The girl’s kick should not have hurt that much. Taylor grit her teeth, jumping on the one leg whose shin wasn’t throbbing in pain. 

“Y’er such a little pussy. Whan whan whan, cryin’ all the time! No better than prey, you know?” the girl said. Her eyes were watery with tears the entire time she insulted Taylor.

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry,” Taylor said. She couldn’t help but shoot a glare at the girl who replied with a cheshire-like grin. “You need a name,” Taylor decided.

The girl paused, quickly wiped the back of a hand across her face, and nodded. “Damn right I do.”

Taylor waffled a bit, allowing part of her mind to search for names while the rest of her focused on fixing her bed. She wondered if the girl would help her with household chores. Then she wondered how far down the rabbit hole she had fallen.

“Cheshire.” 

“What?” the girl asked.

“Cheshire, like the cat in Alice in Wonderland,” Taylor said. “It appeared out of nowhere. And you have that cat theme going.” 

The girl hummed. “I like it, yeah. Cheshire. Like a big kitty. A big predator.”

“Surprised you didn’t call yourself a big pussy,” Taylor muttered.

Cheshire made a low growling sound at the back of her throat. “I ain’t no pussy. You’re the only pussy here.”

“Can, can you stop saying that?” 

Cheshire’s grin matched her namesake’s. “Pussy, pussy, puss--”

Taylor reached out and placed a hand on the girl’s head. “Stop,” she said before bringing her hand back. It was stopped when Cheshire, with a speed that didn’t match her frame, grabbed her wrist.

“Do that again,” she demanded.

“Do what again?” Taylor asked. “Ask you to stop? I think I’ll be doing that pretty often.”

“No, the patting, do it again.” Cheshire moved Taylor’s hand over her head, then bopped it down a few times. She scowled as it didn’t have the effect she wanted.

Giving up on understanding anything that was happening in her life, Taylor patted Cheshire on the head.

Cheshire shivered, her grin turning dopey and a giggle escaping her as Taylor continued patting her head. After a dozen pats, her leg started thumping against the floor and Taylor decided that her limit had been reached. “Yeah, no,” she said.

Cheshire snapped back to reality and glared at Taylor. “Y’er the worst big sis ever,” she growled. “Gimme more headpats.”

“No,” Taylor said with barely concealed exasperation. She started pulling out clothes for her to wear to school. A glance at the clock on her nightstand revealed that she was still a little early. “I need to have breakfast, and maybe I’ll have time to do some of my homework,” she said.

“What ‘bout y’er mornin’ exercise?” Chesire asked. She was still fixated on Taylor’s hands as they tossed jeans onto her bed.

“I don’t do morning exercise.”

Cheshire snorted. “No wonder y’er all flabby then.”

Taylor twitched. “Yeah, whatever,” she said.

“C’mon, we could go runnin’.” She started jogging on the spot, padded, pyjama-clad feet thump-thumping on the floor. “Get ya in shape.”

“I’m perfectly in shape already,” Taylor said through gritted teeth.

Cheshire giggled at her. “Yeah, cause round’s a shape.”

Taylor had the impression that her morning was going to be a long one.

***

Breakfast was a quick affair of cereal and milk and homework next to her bowl. She scribbled down responses to math questions as quickly as she could while Cheshire slurped mil from her bowl and left a huge mustache across her upper lip. 

“Alright,” Danny said as he bustled into the room, one hand tying his tie and the other moving his briefcase over to his chair. “I have to get going. Got a meeting this morning. See you this afternoon?” he asked before patting Taylor on the head.

“Yeah, sure,” she said.

“You too,” Danny said before patting Cheshire’s head on the way by. Her eyes widened and her fang poked out in a silly grin at the contact. “Behave you two!” he said on the way out.

Taylor glared at the girl across from her who was humming contentedly at the contact. “Right, I’m off,” she said as she grabbed her completed homework and unceremoniously stuffed it into her backpack. She swallowed the last of her cereal in one gulp and stood up, flinging her back over one shoulder as she did.

“Y’er leavin’?” Cheshire asked. “Not that I care or nothin’.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Taylor grumped right back. “You’ll be okay staying here?” she asked.

Part of her was leery of leaving a kid alone in her house. Another part figured that she could probably take care of herself. If she was even a real person and not some sort of... projection thing. Ever since she woke up, the thought of heading over to the PRT to fix everything was on her mind, but it wasn’t something she could do before the schoolday was over. 

It was one thing to think that she might be a parahuman, it was another to skip school on a hunch.

“I’ll be fine. Never needed ya anyway.”

“Good.” 

Taylor slid her other arm through the straps of her backpack, and with one last look at Cheshire to make sure she was behaving, she left. 

A moment later the front door clacked shut, leaving the house empty save for one little girl who was bust pouting at her empty bowl. “This is bullshit,” Cheshire said.

***

Seeing as how this story is little more than a bunch of sketches and scenes, I decided to keep the average chapter length on the shorter side.

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

School was a bad idea. Taylor didn’t know what she was thinking when she had left that morning.

The more time she spent away from home, the worse the gnawing guilt in her stomach grew. She found it hard to focus in class, and the breaks between classes were spent fretting.

She had made a mistake.

Not a huge one, she figured, but definitely a mistake. She tried to think of other things. If she was a parahuman, a fact that she was still on the fence about, then that wasn’t the kind of thing she should be ignoring. But there she was, at school instead of at home trying to learn about her power.

Her per-lunch class with Misses Knot was spent on PHO while trying to get an inkling of what was going on. If Cheshire was part of her, and judging by the tingle in her stomach at the thought of the little girl that was the case, then she was probably a projection, or something of the sort. Maybe.

Projections were usually some sort of energy thing, and Cheshire was pretty real-looking.

She ended up giving up on the search.

Every post and thread about finding out if you were a parahuman ended with some PRT agent’s post about visiting the local branch to find out. The constant transparent advertising was getting to her.

When the lunch bell rang, Taylor left to find a place to eat. She was aiming for one of the bathrooms on the second floor, but she found one of Emma’s friends washing her hands there and decided not to risk it.

So out she went, enjoying the fresh if humid early spring air while beelining for one of the benches next to the school. In the warmer months it would be a hang out spot for some of the older students, but there weren’t many who were willing to brave the slight chill just to eat under the sun.

She was halfway through her sandwich when she heard feet rustling through the grass behind her. She closed her eyes and hoped the sinking feeling that came over her was a false alarm.

“Poor Taylor,” Emma’s smooth voice said from over her shoulder. “Eating out here, all alone,” she said with false pity.

“Emma, leave me alone,” Taylor said.

“It’s a wonder that they let you eat so close to the school. You know, dogs aren’t allowed on school property.”

Taylor ignored the laughter of Emma’s friends, though she did notice that Sophia wasn’t around. She was probably waiting to ambush her when she went back in.

“What’s wrong, Tay Tay? Wanna go back to cry to your mommy. Oh, wait, that’s right,” Emma said.

Taylor’s hands balled into fists and she was ready to turn around and run off when the sound of footsteps running across the grass to her side made her turn. There was a black blur that resolved into a running Cheshire.

The girl was moving so fast that when she stopped her feet left a furrow in the grass. “Bitch! Don’t talk to my big sis like that!”

Cheshire’s right leg swung way, way back, then came shooting forwards in a kick that lifted the girl off the ground. The end of her foot connected between Emma’s legs with a dull thud.

Taylor was in just the right position to see the confusion chased by pain wash across Emma’s face before all the blood was drained away and she crashed to the ground with a wordless shriek.

“Yeah, that’s right, ye’r a bitch!” Cheshire spat down at her.

Taylro shot out of her seat, hands going towards Emma who was rolling in the grass. She paused, at a complete loss. This was not a situation she had ever prepared for.

Emma’s cronies didn’t seem to know what to do either, and for a panicked moment everyone just stared as Emma cried and grabbed at her crotch.

“We, we should call the police,” one of the girls--Madison, maybe--said.

“Oh shit,” Cheshire replied, eyes going wide.

Decision made, Taylor grabbed Cheshire by the wrist and started walking away at a brisk pace that had the girl jogging to keep up. “What the fu-heck was that?” Taylor hissed.

“I was tryin’ to protect ya, moron,” Cheshire said.

“I don’t need protecting,” Taylor shot back as she stepped off the school lot and onto the sidewalk before the school. She looked both ways, then dragged Cheshire across the road with her. “I was fine on my own. What were you even doing there?”

“Yeah, sure ya were. And I was bored.”

“Bored? You left the house because you were bored?” Taylor felt that she couldn’t be blamed for the note of desperation in her voice.

“Yeah.”

Taylor’s grip grew a little more firm. She didn’t know where she was going, exactly, but it was away from Winslow and whatever trouble Cheshire had just caused for her. “We need to have a talk about you just kicking people.”

“I ain’t just kick someone, I kicked that bitch because she was being a bitch at you.”

“Could you stop saying bitch?” Taylor asked.

“Don’t wanna... bitch.”

Taylor had the impression that any kind of arguing would end in an endless back and forth that would lead nowhere, so she held her tongue. As soon as they were a few blocks away she let go of Cheshire and slowed her walk to a more reasonable pace.

“So, now what?” Cheshire asked.

“I don’t know,” Taylor said. Her things were all back in school. She didn’t want to go get them. She also didn’t know what to do about Cheshire. “I really don’t know.”

“Hmph,” Cheshire said as she crossed her arms. “Ice cream.”

“What?” Taylor asked.

Cheshire glared up at her, pout in full display. “I help ya, now ya go to pay me. I want ice cream... and headpats.”

Taylor scrunched up her eyes. “You know what, screw it. I want ice cream too.” And Cheshire wouldn’t be able to run away from her questions if she had food in front of her. Probably.

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three

There wasn’t a line in the ice cream parlour, probably, Taylor reasoned, because it was just past one in the afternoon and everyone had better things to do. It did mean that the bored twenty-something behind the counter gave them a wave and waited for the pair of them to order with an expression that silently screamed ‘kill me.’

“So, what do you want?” Taylor asked. She had one eye on the tubs full of ice cream behind a glass partition and another on Cheshire to make sure she didn’t pull a fast one and make a mess. She was also counting her pocket money in the back of her mind. She probably had enough that she didn’t need to worry, but ice cream was always expensive. 

“I want that one,” Cheshire said as she pointed at the most god-awful mix of neon coloured ice cream.

“Uh, are you sure?” Taylor said. She pointed to the much tamer flavours right next to it. “Those ones look less likely to give you a stomach ache.”

“Hmm,” Cheshire said as she leaned onto her tippy toes to look into the display. “Y’er right. I’ll have a scoop of that one too.” She pointed at the chocolate flavoured tub.

“Two scoops?” Taylor said, a note of contrite surprise in her voice. She felt a pang when she realised her mom had used the same tone on her, once upon a time.

“Yeah, two scoops,” Cheshire confirmed.

“I think you’re better off with just the one.”

Cheshire turned to face Taylor, fang poking out and looking extra sharp. “Did you see the look on that bitch’s face when I decked her in the cooch?” she asked. Her voice was high and strident, enough that the girl behind the counter heard it all clear as day and was suddenly paying them a great deal more attention.

“Cheshire.”

“Betch’a she won’t be able to walk straight for, like, a week.”

Taylor gave it much thought.

She thought about encouraging that kind of behaviour in Cheshire.

She thought about Emma’s face going pale.

She thought about the squeak that escaped her lips before she started screaming.

“Yeah, okay, two scoops. With sprinkles.”

Their orders placed and Cheshire’s impatience bled off by her bouncing on the spot, the two girls made their way outside and found seats across from each other under the shadows cast by a parasol.

Cheshire grinned at her cone before she started to chomp into it with happy little noises and the occasional growl.

Taylor watched her eat for a moment. She had to admit, in the privacy of her own mind, that while Cheshire might have been a bit of a pain in the ass, she was also damned cute. “So, how did you find me anyway?” she asked.

Cheshire rubbed the back of one hand across her mouth, spreading yellow and blue ice cream from her lips to her cheeks. “You go to school, duh.”

“Yeah, I know, I meant... did you get a sense that I was in trouble or something?”

“Nah. Told ya, I was just bored.” She took another bite off the topmost scoop.

Taylor nodded and started on her own cone before it melted over her hands. So, her supposed power didn’t keep an active connection with the... clone? Was it a clone if the duplicate wasn’t like the original? Or maybe she was.

Taylor eyed Cheshire for a moment, wondering if she had run into a similar girl around Winslow, or maybe on her way home. How close had she come to Shadow Stalker? Was Shadow Stalker in any way similar to Cheshire?

She had a whole lot of questions and only so many ways to get answers. “So, Cheshire,” she began, grabbing the girl’s attention. Cheshire looked up and blinked big brown eyes at her, the far end of her ice cream melting over her knuckles without her noticing. “Do you have... memories of the person I, uh, cloned you from?”

“Nah,” Cheshire said. She went back to her ice cream. She was doing a real number on the cone, taking big bites off the top and swallowing them whole. Then she paused, eyes going wide before filling with tears. Her free hand came up and started rubbing at her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Taylor asked as she sat up.

“My head hurts,” Cheshire whined.

Taylor slumped back into her seat. “Press your tongue to the top of your palette, it’s just a brain freeze,” she said.

Cheshire waved her arms around and smacked the table while her feet kicked under it. It took all of half a minute for her to calm down and start glaring at the remains of her ice cream, then she bit into it.

With a final, decisive chomp, the girl finished off her cone a moment before Taylor finished her own. “We should head home,” Taylor said as she got up. She picked some napkins from a dispenser and placed a hand on Cheshire’s head to keep her from moving too much.

Like a lightbulb going off, Cheshire froze as soon as Taylor’s hand landed and she let her cheeks and chin be rubbed clean without fuss or protest until Taylor let go of her head and she turned a glare up at Taylor. “What’ch’a do that for? I ain’t no baby,” she said.

A few women walking by, both in their mid thirties if Taylor had to guess, laughed and hid their mouths as Cheshire ranted. It only tossed fuel on the flames.

“Yeah yeah,” Taylor said with no feeling. “You’re a big girl. Now come on, we need to get home.”

“What? I don’t wanna go home. And we need to walk off the calories,” Cheshire said. She pointed off towards the Boardwalk. “Let’s go that way,” she said.

“I’d rather walk back home,” Taylor said.

Cheshire snorted. “You would. It’s cause y’er lazy. It’s all gonna go to y’er ass, ya know. C’mon.” Grabbing Taylor’s hand, the girl started pulling her with surprising strength towards the far busier Boardwalk.

Taylor sighed. This was her life now.

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four

Taylor didn’t care how embarrassing Cheshire thought it might be, or how much she complained, or how red her face went when a few passing women commented on how cute she looked, there was no way she was letting go of the girl’s hand.

She figured that the moment Cheshire was free the girl would find some way to cause a ruckus.

“We’ll get to the end of the Boardwalk, then turn back for home, okay?” Taylor said.

“That’s not even a whole mile,” Cheshire said. “Y’er still gonna look like a frog.”

Taylor’s eyes didn’t twitch because she had more self control than that. “Do you have to keep insulting me?” she asked.

“I bet it all ends up in your thighs,” Cheshire continued. “It sure as heck ain’t ending up in y’er boobs, ya know.” She made a cupping gesture with her free hand, then looked up at Taylor and gave her a toothy grin.

“You’re a real pain in the ass,” Taylor said.

“Nah, I’m awesome is what I am.”

She kind of wished that she had as much confidence as the four-foot-nothing girl next to her. Taylor looked up when she felt Cheshire’s grip on her hand tightened and found that the girl was looking off into the distance.

Following her line of sight revealed a massive toystore with a gathering of people, mostly mothers and their children, circling around in a rough semi-circle. And in the middle of that gathering was a life-sized victorian doll, or at least a woman in a costume.

She curtsied to the crowd of children and adults, then, with an extravagant bow, she turned and gestured towards the front door of the toystore where a giant lion with a lacy mane and button eyes shouldered its way past the door and roared at the crowd.

There was gasping and cheering as the lion stood on its big, fluffy hing legs and began to dance.

Taylor looked down when she felt Cheshire tugging at her and was soon lost in the guileless ocean of two brown eyes that looked up to her. “Please?” she begged.

“I don’t know, you’ve hardly been behaving yourself,” Taylor said. Any guilt she might have felt was washed away with the thought of how much trouble she was going to be in the next day.

“Please?” Cheshire begged. “I’ll behave. And you’ll be the best big sis ever, yeah?” Her eyes grew wider and wetter, the were practically sparkling.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Taylor warned. It took all of a second for the meaning to register with Cheshire and she whooped with joy before escaping Taylor’s grasp and shooting across the street.

Cursing, and glad that there were no cars on the Boardwalk, Taylor jogged after Cheshire and caught up with her on the edge of the crowd, bouncing up and down in a vain attempt to see over the shoulders of the adults on the edges.

Remembering what her mom used to do when she was that age, Taylor grabbed Cheshire by the shoulders and turned her around. “Get on my back,” she said as she crouched down.

Not having to be told twice, Cheshire hopped onto Taylor’s back and wrapped both arms around her neck. She soon had Cheshire’s cheek pressed up against hers as the girl leaned forwards to watch the giant stuffed animals playing and dancing.

Taylor tried to enjoy the show despite the weight on her back and the little knees digging into her kidneys and kicking out every time the animals did something particularly exciting. It was an impressive display. She had no idea how the doll-girl’s powers worked, but they seemed to lend her a lot of fine control over her stuffed animals.

The musical accompaniment was a little lacking, and was certainly aimed at the younger members of the audience, and there was no real story to the show, just big animals acting silly, but it was still enjoyable.

After a good five or so minutes the animals, now half a dozen in number lined up and--to a chorus of cheers and a change of tune--bowed towards the crowd.

Taylor clapped and Cheshire tried to join in without falling off.

The crowd was quick to disperse, a lot of them heading into the store where a couple of young clerks were handing out coupons by the door and the doll-cape was making tiny teddy bears for excited kids. Taylor took one glance at the price tag for what was essentially a teddy bear and blanched.

“We should meet ‘er!” Cheshire said.

“I don’t...” Taylor began, but an idea that hasn’t really solidified yet started to prickle at her. If Cheshire came to be because she had presumably been close to Shadow Stalker at some point, then how close to the doll girl did she have to get to do the same to her. “Okay,” she said.

“Onwards!” Cheshire said as she pointed forwards.

Snorting, Taylor adjusted Cheshire’s position on her back with a hop and moved towards the cape in the victorian dress. She was, perhaps, the most approachable cape Taylor had ever seen. It made sense, seeing as she worked with children.

Waiting a bit for the press to clear up, Taylor found a moment to come close when some of the kids ran back to their parents to beg for cash. “Uh, hi,” Taylor said. For all that the doll-cape wasn’t intimidating, and was a whole foot shorter than her, it still felt awkward to come close.

“Hello,” she said with a smooth, gentle voice. “Can I help you? Or maybe interest you in a plushie?” She looked up at Cheshire, then tilted her head to one side. “I could even make one to look like your... daughter’s onesie.”

Taylor felt her face burning up. “She’s my sister,” she was fast to say. “My little sister.”

“Yeah, she ain’t my mom!” Cheshire added. “Big sis, can I have a plushie?”

Taylor was glad that Cheshire was on her back. It saved her from having to endure the puppydog eyes she just knew the girl was aiming her way. “You don’t need it,” she said. “And I couldn’t afford it besides.” Turning back towards the cape, she tried on a smile. “I just wanted to say that I liked your show, it was really neat. Are you, um, sponsored by the store?”

“Not quite. They pay me to help advertise, and I make a small profit off of the dolls and plushies,” the cape explained. “It’s not too much, but it’s an honest living.”

“That’s really cool,” Taylor said, and she was being honest. She could only hope to find that kind of independance one day. “A-anyway, I should be going. My sister is getting grumpy.”

“Bitch, I ain’t grumpy.”

“See,” Taylor said.

The cape tittered. “I do. I’m glad you enjoyed the show.” She extended a hand and Taylor was quick to grab it for a shake.

The moment their hands touched she felt a weight settle into the pit of her stomach, filling a hole that she didn’t even know she had. “It was nice meeting you. C’mon, Cheshire, let's get back home.”

“Y’er no fun!” Cheshire protested.

Taylor ignored her. She had bigger things to worry about.

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Five

Taylor didn’t know exactly what kind of preparations she needed to do in order to use her power.

She thought back to when Cheshire had appeared and... and let go of those memories with the same speed she would use upon accidentally stepping in dog droppings.

Groaning to herself, Taylor paced across the length of her room, arms crossed and head bowed as she tried to think. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to experiment with her power. The warmth in her gut was still there and she had yet to really poke it. The problem was that she feared the consequences.

Would Cheshire disappear is she summoned another clone?

The question worried her. Not that she liked Cheshire or anything. The girl was a pain in the rear and nothing else.

She had the impression that the answer was no, that Cheshire would be fine, but she had no reason to know if that impression was accurate or not, or even where it came from. Capes were supposed to have some instinctive knowledge of how their powers worked, was that it?

“I’m going to do it,” she declared.

“Are ya sure?” Cheshire asked from her spot on Taylor’s bed. She was on her back and staring at the ceiling, arms and legs sprawled out every which way. “You could keep on wafflin’ like you’ve been doin’. Not like I’ve got anything better to do than watch ya waste both our time.”

Taylor ground her teeth, but Cheshire was essentially correct. “Fine,” she said. She moved over to her little desk and pulled its chair back before sitting down. She leaned forwards until her elbows were on her knees and focused. Cheshire sat up on the bed, arms out behind her to keep her up while her legs kicked at the sides of her mattress.

Taking a deep breath, Taylor focused on the thing inside her and waited. It gave her an impression of calm waters on the brink of receding, of something that put up a strong front against the world, but who was wilting inside. She closed her eyes and poked at the feeling in her gut.

It bloomed, expanded, and burst. Taylor opened her eyes in time to see a figure pop into existence before her with neither sound nor fanfare before she felt a wave of tiredness sweep over her.

She took in a deep breath to settle her nerves, and then another as the realization hit her. She really was a cape, a parahuman. It wasn’t some elaborate trick, and Cheshire wasn’t playing some cruel prank on her. She smiled at the new girl in the room, her good mood rising in her chest and leaving her feeling light headed. “Hi,” she said.

The girl before her curtsied, pulling at the sides of a puffed out dress and revealing white stockings and buckled shoes. “Hello,” she said.

Taylor took a good look at her. She was relieved to see that however her power worked, it didn’t create an actual clone of the cape she touched. The girl was tiny, a whole foot shorter than Cheshire and had tanned skin and middle eastern features with huge, guileless dark eyes. Nothing at all like the doll cape they had seen at the Boardwalk.

“Hey,” Taylor said for a lack of better things to say. “It’s nice to meet you?”

Cheshire snorted. “Hey little sis,” she said. “Glad you made it. Give big sis a minute to get her shit together. In the meantime, lemme lay down the law, yeah?”

“I would rather rather hear the law from my bigger sister,” the girl said with a prim and proper tone. Her accent had just the faintest british hint behind it.

“I am y’er bigger sister. I was out first, and I’m bigger. So there.”

“Cheshire,” Taylor warned and the girl back off with a huff, one hand reached to the cat-eared hoodie she wore to pull it down over her eyes.

“What?” Cheshire asked. “D’you see how prim n’ proper she looks? Bet’cha she won't do nothing if it means gettin’ ‘er hands dirty.”

Cheshire was at least right about the way the new girl looked. She stood with her back straight, even if it didn’t help her look any taller. Her dress had little flowers embroidered along the edges and was a soft brown that matched her hair with a few sky-blue pleats. The entire front of her costume was covered in a big smock of the same blue and a beret sat at a jaunty angle on the back of her head. 

“I am not merely prim,” the girl said in a tone that would have been haughty if her voice didn’t squeak so much. “I’m trying to be civilised. Do you even know what that means?” One hand rose to the sides of her poofy skirt where Taylor noticed she had pockets cleverly hidden by the lacy frills.

Cheshire jumped off the bed and raised a fist. “I’ll show you civil eyes when I poke yours out, doll girl.”

The new girl’s eyes widened and she ‘eeped’ before moving next to Taylor and using her as a human shield.

“Yeah, that’s right. Y’er a coward is what you are,” Cheshire said, a fanged grin growing on her face.

Taylor was about to start trying to calm the two down when a knock sounded at her door and it opened a moment later. Her dad poked his head in. “Heya kiddos. It’s getting a little late, you two--” he froze, taking in the new girl before his brow scrunched up. “I mean, you three should be getting ready for bed.”

“Daddy!” Cheshire said as she shot across the room and stopped next to Taylor’s dad. “Tell big sis that I don’t need to go to bed yet,” she demanded.

Danny laughed and placed a hand on her head. She turned, shooting an impossibly smug grin at the new girl. “None of that. You need your sleep to grow big and strong. But before that,” he said as he leaned forward and gave the air a sniff. “Maybe a bath is in order.”

“I don’t need no bath,” Cheshire protested immediately.

“So that’s what the smell was,” the new girl said.

“Bitch, I will cut you.”

“Girls!” Danny barked. “No hurting each other, not even with words. And, uh, especially not with knives.”

Cheshire’s cheeks puffed out as she looked up to him. “Only if ya give me more headpats,” she said.

Danny laughed and pat the top of her head. “Sure thing, little kitty. Taylor, can you take care of your sisters?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said faintly. “I’ll do what I can.”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Six

Taylor woke up because something was snoring in her room, and it wasn’t her. Blinking a little, she turned her head just enough to see her alarm on the nightstand, then squinted until she could make out the numbers. It was too damned early. She still had fifteen minutes to sleep in and she was going to profit from each and every one.

Whoever was snoring could wait for later.

The door to her room creaked open and she blinked awake with a start. Tiny feet pit-patted closer and when Taylor looked up it was to see the new girl, the one she had summoned just last night and had yet to name, stepping into the room with careful footfalls. She was carrying a tray that was nearly half as long as she was tall, tongue pinched between her lips as she carefully walked closer.

On the tray was a pair of plates full of eggs and a tea kettle that steamed a little, letting a nice familiar scent fill the room.

“Hey?” Taylor asked as she tried to push herself up to a sitting position.

The girl froze, then noticed that Taylor was up and with a shrug walked closer without trying to be quiet. “I thought big sis would like some breakfast in bed this morning,” she said with a small smile.

Taylor shrugged. She wasn’t about to say no to that. “Did you cook it yourself?” she asked.

The girl shook her head and was about to speak when a loud snore cut her off. She glared towards Taylor’s feet.

Giving in to the inevitable, Taylor looked down. Cheshire was on her back, one arm over Taylor’s legs and the oversized T-shirt Taylor had given her as pyjamas riding up to expose her tummy. Her mouth was wide open, one fang in full display as a bit of drool slid down her cheek.

“I did not cook it myself. Dad did.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense.” She pulled her legs out from under Cheshire. All that accomplished was making the girl mumble something before rolling onto her front so that her other arm could hug Taylor’s legs but she was already sitting up with her back against the head of her bed. “Thanks,” Taylor said as she allowed the new girl to place the tray on her lap. “That’s really nice of you.”

The comment earned another small smile and the new girl looked down demurely. “It was nothing,” she said.

Taylor shifted so that the second plate was closer to the girl. She then picked up one of the forks and dug in. “Yeah, it tastes like dad’s cooking,” she said.

“It could use some salt,” the girl agreed.

Taylor nodded, but continued eating while Cheshire snored at her feet. Her leg twitched a few times, poking over the edge of the bed. She figured that given enough time, Cheshire would fall off the side. “So,” she said. “I have school today. It’s Friday, so last day until the weekend. Will you be okay staying here with Cheshire?”

The girl nodded. “I will be. No worries. I’ll try to make sure she behaves.” She took another bite and kept her eyes down. “Um, big sis?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you happen to have any sewing supplies? Maybe some yarn, or some cloth?” She looked up, dark eyes peeking through brown hair. “I, I’d like to help a little, but I can’t without things to work with.”

“Of course,” Taylor said. She actually felt rather bad. Unlike Cheshire, this girl was polite and actually helpful, if a little shy. “By the way, have you thought of a name for yourself?”

She shook her head, a tinge of red climbing to her cheeks. “That, that would be the height of impropriety. Only big sis should name us.”

Taylor paused. She wondered, as she poured two cups of tea, if that was part of her power or just this girl’s feelings on the matter. “How about you tell me about the things you like? That way I’ll be able to give you a name that you like.”

“Of course.” She had that small smile again. “I know how to sew, fix any kind of clothes, make little plushies and teddy bears and all sorts of things with cloth. I would like to think that I’m pretty good that that. And I like fashion. Pretty dresses, matching the right colours together, picking out outfits so that they compliment the wearer. It’s a science, but also an art! And it’s a great art. There’s so much depth to it. Fabric choices and styles. From simple crocheted items to entire gowns with mixed materials. I, I really like that kind of thing, and my power lends itself well to it.”

“I see,” Taylor said. She could keep her own smile off her face at the pure delight pouring out of the girl. “I don’t think a name like needle would fit then?”

She could tell that the girl didn’t like it, but didn’t want to say no.

“No, not quite. It’s a nice name but not for this little sister, right?”

“If you say so, big sis.”

Taylor chuckled and set down her cup to pat the girl on the head. It earned her another small smile. “How about Crochet?”

“Like the needlework? Yes, yes I like that very much.”

“Well then Crochet, do you want to help me bring all this downstairs? Then we can rummage around for materials you can play with while I’m gone.”

Crochet nodded fervently, her poised act discarded for the moment. “I would love that, big sis.”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Seven

“Leave me alone,” Crochet said. She was leaning forwards, attention on the needle that was slipping in and out of the beige cloth she had cut out from an old blouse. Each dip and pull of the needle left behind a tiny stitch that she could feel with her power. It was coming along nicely.

“But I’m bored,” Cheshire said. She was on the couch in the living room, head and shoulders over the edge and legs kicking out in protest. “I wanna do stuff.”

“No. Big Sis told us to stay at home. So we will listen to what she said and obey. That’s what we’re supposed to do, and that’s what we will do. Big Sis is going to be very proud of us when she gets back home.” She didn’t add ‘but especially me’ at the end, but she certainly thought it.

“You’re lame,” Cheshire said.

“I am not lame,” Crochet shot back. She wished her response wasn’t so weak, but she couldn’t think of anything better. So she stuck her nose up and pretended that she couldn’t hear her immature slightly bigger sister.

Cheshire grumbled something and rolled off the couch. A moment later the TV came on and filled the house with the noise of people talking, then the weather being announced, and eventually cartoonish sounds of violence. Cheshire had found something to do, finally.

Smiling to herself, Crochet inspected all of her work. One of Danny’s pants had had its holes sewn back together. The cut wasn’t even visible anymore, one of Taylor’s shirts that had a big juice stain down the back was clean now, thanks to a creative use of her power, and her pet project was nearly complete.

She raised it, turning it this way and that before reaching out with her power and bringing a few pieces of cotton closer. A few passes with the scissors and some quick stitches and she had a tiny hand-sized hoodie which she slid over her new plush. It was perfect.

“What’s ‘at?”

Crochet jumped in her seat and quickly squeezed her plush to her chest. “It’s none of your business, that’s what it is.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Show me,” Cheshire demanded.

“No,” Crochet said. She shook her head and tucked it closer. “No way will I let a ruffian like you touch her.”

“Her?” Cheshire said. Her eyes narrowed into little slits. “Lemme see.”

“No.” Crochet turned her back to her sister and hopped off her chair. She started to stomp away, only to feel a wash of cold pass through her. Cheshire appeared in front of her out of a cloud of dark smoke. She had her arms crossed, clawed paws over each bicep.

“Show me,” Cheshire said. She glared a little harder, then sighed. “I promise I won’t touch it.”

“Promise?” Crochet asked.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Nodding slowly, she pulled the plushie away from her chest and turned it over so Cheshire could see it. It was maybe a foot tall, humanoid and wearing jeans under a beige hoodie. Long black hair made from scraps of black fabric hung down it its hips and it had a wide, wide smile on its face. “It’s a little big sis,” Crochet added unnecessarily. “I couldn’t find anything to make it some glasses, but I’ll...” she let her voice trail off at seeing the look on Cheshire’s face. “You promised!” she warned.

“Gimme!” Cheshire pounced at her with hands outstretched.

“No!” Crochet screamed. She ducked under the grab and ran back towards the kitchen table.

Every needle on the table rose and took off like missles, trailing little bits of string after them as they shot towards Cheshire. She laughed and phased out of their path, letting them plant harmlessly into the walls.

“Give her to me!” Cheshire screamed.

“Never, you--you ruffian!” Crochet jumped over the arm of the couch, picked up a folded blanket on the end, and tossed it back. It unfurled in the air like a net to catch Cheshire.

Grinning like a cat after a mouse, the girl jumped to the side, phased out of reality, and returned with both feet planted above the television. She shot off after Crochet like a rocket. “I’m older, she should be mine!”

“You’ll just hurt her!” Crochet said as she ducked under the lunge.

“Mine!”

Their crash turned into a roll across the carpeted living room, Cheshire on top, then Crochet, in a whirling mess of at least twenty elbows and twice that many knees. They rammed into a table.

Both girls stopped when they heard a wobble, then a shake, then nothing for a whole, horrible second. The clatter and crack of glass on the floor had them both wincing.

A picture frame had fallen, edge first. Glass spread out everywhere and the frame bent out of shape on impact. “Oh no,” Crochet said.

“It’s y’er fault,” Cheshire said.

“No, it’s yours!” Crochet screamed right back. “Now big sis is never going to love us.”

“Nah, she’ll still like us.” Cheshire’s face went pale. “Right? She, she’ll still give us headpats?”

Crochet felt the first tears threatening to come out and saw the same on Cheshire’s face. “We’re in so much trouble,” she squeaked.

They got to their feet and looked around. There were needles in the walls, the tossed blanket had flung magazines from off a side table and two neat little pawprints stained the wall above the television. Worse, there was now a cracked and broken picture of a smiling Annette Hebert on the floor in the middle of a sea of glass.

Crochet got her tears under control and took a deep breath. “Here,” she said. She extended the hand holding little big sis towards Cheshire who took it without thinking. “I’ll... I’ll take care of all of this. You, you do whatever.”

Cheshire looked down at the plushie in her hand, She squeezed it a little, thumb rubbing over the plush hoodie, then carefully, she placed it sitting on the couch. “Nah, I’ll help,” she said.

***

When Danny had finished supper and put his plate in the sink, he stretched a little and moved over to the living room. It was quiet in the house. Surprisingly quiet for a home with three young ladies in it. Then he heard Crochet scream at Cheshire and smiled. That was better.

Sitting down with an oomph, he searched for the remote in the cracks of the sofa and was about to turn on the TV when something caught his eye.

How in the world did footprints end up above the television, he wondered.

***

Soon the Heberts will look on in fondness at the days when a creaky front step was their only problem.

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Eight

She figured that she wouldn’t get in trouble, not if big sis never caught her.

Laughing so loud that her voice carried across the entire street, Cheshire ran across a rooftop and then jumped off the edge. She turned into dark smoke, weightless but still moving. The next building over was a bit taller, so she phased back into reality and dug into the side of the wall with her onesie’s claws, then shot upwards with a ‘hup.’

She landed on the very edge of the roof, arms cartwheeling for balance before she righted herself and started running again. Her grin was so wide it hurt.

“I am the night!” she screamed as she jumped to the next roof and rolled to bleed off momentum.

She was about to start speeding up again when she saw something off to her side and came to a skidding halt.

Two girls were moving on the rooftops just down the block. One of them turning to shadows with every jump, just like her, but, in Cheshire’s professional opinion, with none of the grace and coolness. The other girl stepped from a second floor roof to a third, everything around her bending out of shape in a way that made Cheshire go cross eyed.

Pausing, she considered what to do for a moment. Big sis, she reasoned, would probably roll into a fetal position and cry. Crochet would probably walk off the side of the building, but she’d do it real prim-like.

Humming to herself, Cheshire decided to investigate.

She landed on the street, knees bending almost in two to take her weight. The few people in the street stared at her for the half second she spent there before running across to the other side.

A horn honked, brakes squealed and a few people screamed.

Cheshire turned to smoke and let the nondescript truck pass through her before she landed on the other side of the street and reformed. She glared at the white truck, taking note of the big sign on its side that read ‘Truck-Kun’s Disposal Services.’ She flipped it the bird then jumped straight up and made it to the next roof.

It took her a second to figure out where the other two had gone. As soon as she saw them a few roofs over, she ran off after them, feet pat-patting quietly on the rough gravel of the rooftop. She used an air conditioning unit as a stepping stool, then flew spread-eagle from one roof to the next, the tail of her onesie whipping out behind her.

“Parkour!” she whispered, because she was being sneaky.

The two capes stopped by the next rooftop, both of them looking down onto an alleyway where Cheshire could hear the sounds of a scuffle.

“I’m calling it in,” the shorter of the two said. She reached into her green armoured breastplate and pulled out a phone, but the cooler of the two put a hand on hers.

“Don’t. They’ll just tell us to piss off or interfere.”

“Of course they’ll tell us to interfere, they’re fighting. It’s our job to stop them,” shorty said. Cheshire had the impression that she was none too happy about the whole thing.

“Let’s wait a bit. See who’ll come out on top first. Let them fuck each other up a bit too. They’ll spend less time on the streets if they’re full of holes.”

Shorty scoffed then took a step back while pressing on the screen of her phone with a thumb. She replaced it while reaching to her ear with her other hand. “Console, this is Vista, reporting a fight in the alleyway between 6th and Main, the one near the old drug store.” The girl nodded twice before turning to her partner. “They want us to back off unless there’s a cape or civilian involved.”

“Tch,” the cool shadow-y cape said. “Bunch of cowards.”

“I know, right?” Cheshire said as she walked to the edge of the roof about two meters away from the other capes.

Both girls jumped a few feet into the air and spun around towards her in time to see her shit-eatingest grin appear.

“The fuck are you?”

“Shadow!” Vista said. She poked her partner in the ribs before turning her visored head towards Cheshire who was busy stretching her arms behind her head. “I’m sorry about her. You surprised us.”

“S’all good,” Cheshire said. “So, you two gonna do anything ‘bout that?” she gestured down into the alleyway. Eight guys were standing around, though a couple were using the walls to keep on their feet. Half of them were asian, the other half white and bald, all of them were armed, though mostly with bats and the occasional knife. “They look like they’re havin’ fun,” she said.

“Are you... with any of them?” Vista asked.

“Don’t be an idiot, twerp,” Shadow Stalker said. “She’s as black as me. None of them would want her.” Her emotionless mask fixed itself on Cheshire. “Hey kid, get out of here, would you. The big kids are working here.”

“Don’t look like y’er workin’ to me,” Cheshire said. “Looks like y’er lazin’ about while there’s fightin’ to be had.” Her sentence was punctuated by a piercing scream from below and she cursed for having missed the action. “Speakin’ of.”

With a step, she walked off the edge of the roof and fell towards the ground, the hood of her onesie flapping around her head before she turned ghostly and slowed down. Just before landing she phased back and aimed both feet down, heels first, towards the back of a bald guy’s head.

The man toppled forwards like a falling tree, Cheshire riding him down with a laugh until he crashed face first into the ground right in the middle of the brew fight.

All the gangsters paused to stare, so she grinned right back at them. “Heyya. Y’all ready ta get whipped?”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Nine

Seeing the dumbfounded expression on the faces of the gathered thugs warmed Cheshire’s heart. That was, until one of them took a swing at her with a bat while screaming, “Cape!”

She ducked under the blow, took a step back, and almost tripped when her foot landed on the guy she’d knocked out. “Dang it,” she muttered as she took another step away from bat-guy. Narrowing her eyes, she waited for him to finish his wild swing, then punched.

Her claws bit into his forearm, locking it in place for the seconds it took her to get her head in close and chomp down on his hand.

His scream was musical, and the metal bat clanged to the ground at her feet as his hand spasmed. He tried to back away, so Cheshire helped him along by ramming her head in his gut as hard as she could.

That was one more idiot down. She started to bend over to pick up the bat when another thug ran at her, knife in hand. Phasing out of reality, she avoided his first swing, then jumped backwards again to gain some ground. The idiot just stood there, slack jawed at her awesomeness.

“Super Secret Cheshire Special!” she screamed before swinging her foot forward as hard as she could and punting him between the legs.

He went down wheezing.

Grinning, Cheshire turned to the other idiots only to see a couple of them take off running. Another fell down with a bolt sticking out of his chest and another ran full tilt into a wall that warped around to block off his path. Then the heroes arrived, Vista beelined towards the nearest downed idiot and started tying his arms together with cuffs while Shadow Stalker stomped over to Cheshire.

“Hey,” Cheshire said.

“You little shit, you stole my power!” the older girl screamed.

Cheshire glared up at her, arms crossing. “No I didn’t.”

“I just saw you!” Shadow Stalker pointed off behind her to where Cheshire had turned smokey just a minute ago. “You’re the reason my power’s been weird all week. You stole it!”

“If you were afraid of gettin’ y’er power stolen, you should’a kept a better eye on it,” Cheshire shot back.

“Guys,” Vista said as she cuffed another thug. “We should really just wait a bit. I’m sure we can figure things out once the others arrive.”

“Oh, I’ll figure things out, all right, when she starts squealing,” Shadow Stalker said. She reached out to grab Cheshire but the girl phased out and reappeared with her tongue sticking out and her middle finger holding one eye open. “You little shit!”

“No, y’er a shit,” Cheshire said.

“Guys, just wait, Console sent some adults,” Vista said.

“Shut up,” both Shadow Stalker and Cheshire said at the same time. They turned back and stared at each other.

Cheshire hrmped. “I’m goin’ home. You cowards are too much for me.”

“Cow-- I’ll strangle you,” Shadow Stalker said as she tried to grab onto Cheshire. The girl spun out of the way with a squeak then started laughing as Shadow Stalker chased her around in circles.

“Oh my god,” Vista said. “Piggot’s going to kill us.”

With a running leap, Cheshire hopped up, used her power to become lighter, then jumped off one wall. She spun in mid air and did the same against the opposite wall, gaining height with every bounce back and forth.

Shadow Stalker screamed incoherently as she started following her up. The girl was taller, and had stronger legs, her flight up the side of the buildings around them was quite a bit faster, and by the time Cheshire was on the roof she was hot on her heels.

“Screw you, shadow girl!” Cheshire screamed over her shoulder as she sprinted to the edge of the roof and jumped off. She could hear Shadow Stalker’s angry panting as she followed. There was a twang behind her, and on instinct Cheshire phased out of reality just in time for an arrow to dart through where she was. “What the hell!” she said.

Figuring that speed was the better part of valour, Cheshire started sprinting all out, not that it helped much, Shadow Stalker was fast.

Growling, she let herself phase through the roof of an office building, landed on a desk and grabbed a heavy lamp from off the top. When Shadow Stalker’s shadowy form followed her down, she threw the lampat her, keeping her phased out long enough that she dropped to the floor below.

She took her chance and ran off in another direction, phasing through cubicle walls and then out of the side of the building to land on the street.

A few people screamed as she landed in the middle of them, but she paid them no mind, too busy trying to put distance between herself and Stalker.

***

She was sweaty and tired by the time she made it home, but there weren’t any homicidal Wards on her tail. She had cut through buildings and alleys and kept off the rooftops as much as she could. It added a few minutes to her travel time, but at least it made it nearly impossible to follow her.

She hoped.

Landing in the backyard, Cheshire brushed off the pants of her onesie, straightened its hood and wiped the sweat away from her forehead with the back of one hand. She was going to need to be extra sneaky as she ran a bath and tucked her onesie under some dirty clothes.

Phasing through the backdoor into the kitchen, she started to pad over towards the staircase when the lights flicked on.

Taylor was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, brows drawn and not a hint of amusement on her face.

“Heya, big sis,” Cheshire said.

“Sit.”

“Aww, shit.”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Ten

Cheshire wasn’t very good at taking punishment. That much was more than obvious to Taylor. The girl was sitting with both hands on her knees, lips sticking way out in a pout that might have lessened her anger if the story Cheshire had weaved wasn’t so... so Cheshire-like.

“To recap,” Taylor said with what felt like all the patience in the world. “You went out for a run at half past nine to stretch your legs. Alone. Without telling anyone. Then you saw some Wards, and instead of minding your business you ran after them.”

Cheshire made a little grunt.

“And then,” Taylor said, her voice growing cold. “Then you got into a fight with some nazis and a bunch of gangsters just because you could.” Her fists clenched and she felt herself on the edge of screaming but held back. Cheshire was making herself as small as she could, hood dipping down to hide her blushing face. “And then you got into a fight with Shadow Stalker and had to run away. You, you absolute... gah!” 

Standing up fast enough that her chair wobbled back and forth, she stomped over to Cheshire, grabbed the girl by both shoulders, then threw her into her chest before wrapping her up as tight as she could.

She might only have known Cheshire for a few days, but she cared for her, dammit. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Cheshire mumbled into Taylor’s neck.

“You’d better be,” Taylor said. She squeezed harder, as if to make sure that the girl was safe and sound.

“Big sis? Cheshire?” a soft voice said from the door leading into the living room.

Taylor pulled away from Cheshire--who made a tiny unhappy sound and losing the contact-- and turned to the doorway to find Crochet wrapped up in a big fluffy blanket. She was blinking around with bleary eyes and brought a hand up to cover her mouth when a yawn escaped her. “Did I wake you up?” Taylor asked.

“Mmm,” was Crochet’s response. “Cheshire came back? That’s nice. Are you okay, big sis?”

“I was just worried,” Taylor said. “Cheshire, you need a shower, then it’s off to bed with you.”

The girl looked ready to protest, but one look at the firm expression on Taylor’s face had her giving up. “Okay, Big Sis.” She dropped off the chair and padded off towards the stairs.

Crochet watched her go, then walked deeper into the kitchen. She lifted a chair and brought it next to the stove, then found the kettle and got on her tippy toes to fill it with water. “I think, Big Sis, that we’re going to have to talk,” Crochet said.

“Oh really?” Taylor asked. She couldn’t help the amusement in her voice as she took the kettle from Crochet and set it on the stove for her. She didn’t need the girl to spill boiling water all over.

Crochet nodded quite firmly. “Oh yes. Big sis, I think you need to help Cheshire become a good hero.”

“A... hero?” Taylor asked. She was getting a faint sense of trepidation.

“Yes,” Crochet said as she got out a box of tea bags. “Cheshire wants to go out at night and stop crime, it’s what she dreams of doing. And Big Sis, of course, wants to help people because she’s Big Sis and is the best.”

“You think too highly of me,” Taylor said. “I’m not up for the whole hero thing. I wish I was, I really do, but I don’t think it’s something I could do.”

Crochet huffed. “Of course you could. You just need to put your mind to it. There’s nothing Big Sis can’t do. Look, I even designed a costume for you.” Reaching into her blankets, Crochet pulled out a tiny plushie of a girl in a superhero costume. She had long black hair and a big cape all around her that covered a suit that looked just a little bit like Alexandria’s, only with a big ‘BS’ on her chest.

“Is that me?” Taylor asked. She grabbed the plushie and inspected it closer. It even had her wide mouth--turned up in a smile--and her rather narrow hips and bust, but in the costume the plushie looked heroic and strong. “Why BS?”

“For Big Sis, of course,” Crochet said.

“Ah,” Taylor replied. “I think, um, something else might be better.”

“It’s a work in progress,” Crochet said before taking the plushie back and tucking it under her arm. “But I think that I could make a costume that looks really good, then everyone will think that Big Sis is cool, just like I know she is.”

Taylor felt a smile tugging at her lips. She placed a hand on Crochet’s head and patted it before she started to arrange her bed hair a little. The girl sighed. “Thanks Crochet. We’ll have to table the idea for later though, okay?”

“Mmm okay,” Crochet said as she leaned into Taylor’s hand.

“By the way,” Taylor asked as she stopped the patting. “Were you sleeping with a plushie of me?”

Crochet’s face instantly reddened and she turned away. “No,” she said, even as she hugged the plushie tighter.

Taylor grinned despite herself. “It’s okay if you do. It’s cute, even.”

“A lady does not need a plushie to sleep well. Let alone one of her Big Sis,” Crochet denied.

“Of course not,” Taylor said. The water was nearly boiling, so she took it off the stove and found two mugs to pour it in. “Were you serious about the hero thing?” she asked as they retreated to the table.

“A little. Cheshire won’t be able to sit back and do nothing. She’s too hyper. And if we get more sisters and maybe brothers, then they might want to be heroes too.”

Taylor blew across the top of her mug. “I’ll give it some thought.”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Eleven

Cheshire grinned as she made blood splatter again the wall, then she swiped again and more blood was on the floor.

Her head twisted to the side and she inspected her work for a moment before adding some more blood all over the bad guy’s face and neck. It was perfect!

“What are you drawing there, sweetie?” a kindly voice asked.

Cheshire looked up to find a store assistant, a portly man whose skin was a shade lighter than hers looking over her shoulder. She looked back down at her Alexandria and Buddies Colouring Book, the page now covered in brightly coloured bad guys and the hero of the book posing in mid-air. Her red crayon paused above the page. “I’m makin’ a drawing for my big sis,” she explained.

“That’s awfully kind of you,” the man said. “Which one’s your big sis?” He gestured at the rest of the store and Cheshire looked through the racks of cloth and thimbles and needles and whatnot, trying to find her big sis.

Taylor was a little deeper in, her head only just visible over the racks as she reached up towards a bolt of greenish cloth. “That’s ‘er over there,” Cheshire said.

“Right, now you keep one eye on your big sis, alright? I’ve got to man the cash, but I don’t mind you working on your little art piece if you’re nice and well behaved, okay?” He patted her head before moving back behind the counter.

She grinned at him and nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

Her drawing was coming along real nicely when she heard the old guy at the counter gasp. Looking up, she saw three guys, all asian looking with red and green shirts. A couple of them had bandanas around their necks and were walking as if they had trouble keeping their pants on.

They started talking to the nice old guy behind the counter. He looked rather nervous for a bit before reaching under the counter and bringing up an envelope.

“This is it, this is it. I didn’t think you would be so early,” the old guy said.

One of the guys, the leader of the group, if Cheshire had to guess, pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing a long, intricate dragon tattoo before he took the envelope and pulled it open. He tsked after counting the stuff within. “This ain’t enough.”

The old guy was looking a little sweaty. “But that’s the same as last month.”

“Yeah, but it’s higher this month. You don’t want those nazis walking all up in here, do you?” the leader said. He smacked the envelope on the desk a couple of times. “C’mon, double it up.”

“Double?” the old guy said. “I can’t afford that.”

“You’re making me waste my time, there’s a fee for that. Now you’re protesting, so it’s triple.” The other asian guys started laughing at that.

“Hey, leave him alone,” Cheshire said as she hopped off her chair and came to stand in the middle of the corridor leading to the exit. She balled her fists and placed them on her hips, a glare fixed on her face the entire time. The old guy had been nice to her.

“Oh shit, who’s this?” one of the guys said. He came a little closer and leaned forwards. “This one your daughter, old man?” he asked.

“N-no, she’s a client. Leave her out of this,” the old man said. “She’ll go back to colouring, right sweetie, I’ll pay you, just give me a moment.”

“Nah, it’s good old man,” the leader said. He was looking at Cheshire in a way that made her feel icky. “We’ll take the girl. Oni Lee said we needed to find more anyway. It’ll be worth more than your spare change.”

“You ain’t takin’ me anywhere, you weirdo,” Cheshire said.

The guy closest to her snorted and reached out. He grabbed her by the shoulder, thumb digging into her. “Shut up, and come here.”

Glaring, Cheshire phased out just long enough for his hand to swipe through empty air, then she cocked her leg back. The boy just stared wide-eyed as she swung forwards and punted him between the legs.

“Cape!” the leader screamed. He grabbed his other buddy by the shoulder and shoved him towards Cheshire.

The guy pulled a baseball bat from his side where she hadn’t noticed it and swung it at her. She let it pass through her head. “Moron,” she said. Reaching over to the counter, she grabbed a handful of crochet needles and walked over to the guy she’d knocked down already. Taking one needle in her free hand, she phased it and let it drop. It reappeared in the middle of the guy’s knee.

He started screaming a lot.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” the leader said before he spun around and ran out. His buddy with the bat swung at her again while backing off.

Snorting, she tossed all of her needles at him and watched them phase back stuck all over his legs. He fell back with a howl, bat flying off over the counter.

“What’s going on?” Big sis said as she ran to the front. She took one look at the two thugs on the ground and then turned a glare onto Cheshire. “What did you do?” she asked.

“I ain’t do nothin’ bad,” Cheshire said. “They were givin’ off these nasty stranger danger vibes.”

“Dammit Cheshire,” Taylor said. “That’s not a reason to, to,” she paused to take in the needles planted into the thugs legs. “What did you even do to them?” she asked before she started to bend over one of them to help.

“They were going to kidnap her,” the old guy behind the counter said. “They’re from the ABB. You need to leave, now.”

“Really Cheshire?” Crochet asked. “Couldn’t you have let them take you?”

“Hey, fuck you,” she shot back.

Taylor gave up on helping when she heard the old man. Her eyes narrowed down at the idiot still squirming before her. “I’m sorry about all this, sir. You might want to call the police,” she started to say.

The door jingled as it opened and the leader walked in. For a moment everyone paused, then he raised his hand, gun pointing right at Taylor.

“Big sis!”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Going down to three chapters this week. We’ll see if folks still stay engaged. If not, I’ll bring it back up to five a week.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Twelve

Crochet didn’t like Cheshire most of the time, but the girl was fast and she cared for Big Sis, almost as much as Crochet did. She bumped into Taylor, sending Big Sis sprawling into a rack of chocolate bars off to the side a moment before the meanie at the door fired.

The noise was super loud, and Crochet wanted to curl into a ball and hide, but the meanie was trying to hurt her Big Sis. That was horribly rude of him.

Cheshire was too busy to take him out, the nice older gentleman behind the counter was diving for cover, and Big Sis was still dazed by her crash into the rack, so it was up to Crochet to save the day.

She swallowed.

“S-stop right there,” she said. With a twist of her will, she reached out to everything she could find in the store, suffusing the whole place with her power. They were in a clothing store, everything around her was porous and absorbent, soaking in her telekinetic grasp like a sponge falling into water.

Reams of cloth unwound themselves like banners, needles darted across the air like teeny tiny missiles, and the stress balls being sold by the counter exploded.

The thug at the door shot at a swarm of needles before they started poking at him, then cloth wrapped itself around his hand and tugged the gun away.

He turned to run, but Crochet was faster. His laces undid themselves and with a bit of focus tied themselves together in a big knot.

She might have needed Big Sis’ help to tie her shoes, but making a knot was easy.

The meanie went down with a thump, face bumping against the closed door hard enough that he stopped moving. Crochet had the gun float over to her on a pillow, then tied the feet and hands of the other meanies with long unicorn covered ribbons. It didn’t match their outfits at all, but you could never go wrong with unicorn ribbons.

“Big sis!” she called as soon as she was done.

Big sis stumbled out of the rack, blinking hard as if dazed for just a moment before her face turned very serious and kind of scary. She scanned the shop, attention going from one meanie to the next. “You, call the police. Not the PRT, the police,” she ordered the old gentleman. “Do you have a security system? Cameras?” she asked.

“Y-yes?” he said.

“Where is it?”

He pointed to something under the counter. “Good. Destroy it. I can't afford to have our faces outed like this, you understand.” She looked at him, and for a moment Crochet’s Big Sis looked super scary. It was awesome.

“Yes, yes, I understand,” he said.

Taylor kicked one of the meanies over, then started going through his pockets. “Crochet, can you make blindfolds for these idiots?”

“Yes, Big Sis!” Crochet said. She found more ribbons (with puppies on them!) and tied them around the eyes of all three thugs.

Big Sis pulled out wallets and a folding knife and a bunch of other things from the bad guy’s pockets, dropping each thing on the counter above her before going back to searching. It was only when she reached the third guy that she started having a hard time. The meanie wouldn’t stop wiggling and trying to kick at her, so with narrowed eyes and a really scary look, Big Sis punched him in the ribs. “Listen to me, asshole,” Big Sis growled. “You almost shot my sister. I don’t have much pity for dirtbags that try to hurt the people that I love, so lay down and stop fighting or I’ll be taking out my anger on your sorry ass.”

“Oni Lee is coming and, he’s going to kill you bitch!” the leader of the bad guys screamed.

Taylor punched him again, then grimaced and shook her hand. “Oni Lee isn’t here. It’s just me and you. Now stop moving or I’ll make you stop.”

Crochet was wide-eyed. She looked to her side where Cheshire was staring with the same expression. Their gazes met for a second and a flash of understanding passed between the sisters.

Their Big Sis was the coolest.

“I, I’ve called the police,” the store’s proprietor said. He was clutching a cell phone to his chest. “And, and I’ve unplugged the cameras. Is that good enough?”

Taylor stood up and nodded. “Thank you. I’m sorry about the mess. I was hoping to buy a few things, but I don’t want to be here when the police arrive. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I wouldn’t want three young girls to be caught up in this anyway.”

Taylor gave him a wry smile. “No more than we are. Crochet, Cheshire, come on.”

Crochet nodded really hard, then stepped over one of the bad guys on the way to the door. She gave the gentleman at the counter a curtsey as she passed.

“See ya, old guy,” Cheshire said as she picked up a coloring book and tucked it under her arm.

They were nearly out of the door when Big Sis stopped and, a gasp escaped her. Crochet had to lean to the side to see what was blocking her path.

There was a man in the doorway. Not a tall man, but one that still had a presence to him, as if he was larger than life. He stood perfectly, unnaturally still with the brighter light from the sun at his back masking his features until he slowly tilted his head, and the dark red demon’s mask he wore came into focus.

Big Sis pulled Crochet and Cheshire back, pushing both girls in the chest until they were behind her.

The demon in the door looked at her, then down at the three thugs on the ground. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a long, wicked knife. “You will come with me,” he said.

***

Looking for a Beta reader for this and... well, all the other fics. I’ve been letting far too many mistakes slip by lately, but at the pace I’m trying to keep, I just don’t have time to edit things well before posting. If you’re interested, feel free to PM me!

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Thirteen

The clock above the doorway ticked three times, each tick an eternity longer than the last.

Taylor’s chest constricted, as if someone had reached a hand into her and squeezed the air out of her lungs.

She was in danger. More importantly, her sisters were in danger. This wasn’t some no-name thug with a gun, not that that wouldn’t have been terrifying enough. This was Oni Lee, the ABB’s mad dog. In terms of sheer body count, he would likely be considered the most dangerous cape in the city.

“You will come with me,” he repeated.

There was no room for argument, no place to deny him what he wanted or to fight back. It didn’t even sound like a demand. Oni Lee said they would jump, and he expected them to do just that.

Taylor moved.

She threw every insult she knew at herself even as her legs started to move, even as she stumbled forwards, even as she saw the eyes of the man behind the mask widen. Her fingers brushed against his chest, then went right through as he turned to ash.

“Fool.”

The single word of condemnation came from right behind her. Taylor whipped around in time to see a knife plunging at her through a cascade of hair.

She felt something settle in her stomach and pushed.

The knife jerked to a stop inches from her face, held there by a cat’s cradle of ribbons tethered to the ceiling lights. Oni Lee paused, the black holes of his mask boring silently into her soul.

Then a new Lee appeared, once more between her and the door, standing in the ash of his original. His knife was already in hand. But before he could threaten her with it, his body suddenly spasmed, a pained gasp escaping him as the blade fell from limp fingers.

A moment later, both he and his weapon crumbled to ash, revealing a new girl standing behind him.

She was short, with long black hair tied in a ponytail that reached all the way down to the small of her back. A blue Oni mask sat on the back of her head, so her hair emerged from its mouth. She wore a tight dress of flowing cloth, loose sleeves, and a skirt that stopped at her knees. A thick sash wrapped around her waist... from which protruded the mouth of a sheath.

In her outstretched hand was a knife, one of those traditional Japanese ones. A tanto? With a brightly lacquered wooden grip, it looked almost like a toy if not for the very real steel hovering where Lee's kidney would have been. Used to be.

“You are trying to hurt my Onee-sama,” the girl said in a monotone but still sugary-high voice. She didn’t break eye contact, or even blink.

Oni Lee reappeared, this time almost on the opposite end of the store from Taylor and her sisters. One hand held his knife, but this time his other hand was clamped on his side, trying to hold back the obvious red stain spreading through the fabric.

He made a noise halfway between a growl and a groan, then faded into ashes.

A new Oni Lee appeared before Taylor, arm cocked back with his knife poised to strike.

The new girl stepped out from his shadow, the short hiss-click of her knife sliding back into its sheath the only sound she made.

“Omae wa mou, shindeiru,” the girl intoned with gravitas.

“Nani?” he asked.

Oni Lee’s arm fell off like a doll’s limb that had been yanked too hard. His knife was still held in a white-knuckled grip, even as blood pooled on the floor.

Then Oni Lee vanished in a cloud of ash and did not reappear.

The girl sighed and turned towards Taylor, a bored non-expression on her face. “He still lives. Does Onee-sama wish for me to correct this?”

Taylor swallowed, looked down at the arm that was resolutely not turning to ash, then shook her head. “No, that’s… okay. We need to get out of here.”

“Shit, even littler little sis,” Cheshire began. “Y’er almost cool.”

The new girl looked at Cheshire, her expression still completely flat. She turned her attention to Taylor. “What is that thing, and why is it soiling my Onee-sama’s presence?”

Cheshire choked. “Bitch, I will cut you.”

New Girl put a casual hand on the hilt of her knife. “Not if I cut you first, Kuroneko.”

Taylor pinched the bridge of her nose. “No one is cutting anyone,” she declared. “Come on.”

Lights began to flash outside and the telltale sound of sirens approaching had all four girls tensing. Taylor grabbed Crochet and Cheshire by the hand and started moving towards the back. “Is the fire exit blocked?” she asked the owner.

“It isn’t,” the man said. “G-go ahead, miss.”

“Thanks. Come on, uh... new girl. Time to go.”

“Yes, Onee-sama.”

***

Short chapter is short.

Oh, and everyone say hi to Daimahou and BlueNine. You might have seen them in the comments poking at my terrible grammar. Now they’re doing it before you ever see the chapters! Give them a quick pat on the head if you see them around!

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fourteen

Walking down an alley in Brockton Bay was usually a good way to get kidnapped, assaulted, robbed, mugged, or beaten. If you were lucky, it was only one of the things on that list.

Walking down an alley in Brockton Bay with what were essentially three capes, none of which were even trying to disguise their powers was an entirely different experience.

Crochet was at Taylor’s right, one hand gripping hers while she focused on the pile of clothes floating before her. Needles were already slipping in and out of something that was, to Taylor’s growing worry, getting rather large.

She would have complained about the theft, but they were already running away from a crime scene. At some point allowances had to be made.

Cheshire had Taylor’s other hand in hers and was bouncing on the spot as if eager to run ahead. Taylor had a response on the tip of her tongue to call her back, but so far the girl seemed satisfied to hold Taylor’s hand.

The new girl, and Taylor knew that she had to find a name soon, was popping in and out of existence. She would appear at the end of the streets they were walking down, or on nearby rooftops. Always in places where it was difficult to see her until her clone collapsed to dust.

“Hey!” Taylor called out as they neared the end of the alleyway.

With a pop, the girl appeared before Taylor, head tilted back to look at her. Her expression was still as cold and flat as it ever was. “Yes, Onee-sama?”

“Do you mind staying close to us for a bit?” she asked. “I don’t want anyone spotting you. And I’d like to know where you are.”

“As you wish, Onee-sama.”

Taylor stuck her head out of the alleyway and looked both ways. Other than a police car that disappeared around a distant intersection, there wasn’t anything out of place. She turned to take in her sisters. Cheshire was as conspicuous as ever in her onesie, but people might just ignore that with her age.

The new girl’s outfit was... bizarre. She was also carrying a knife that, to scale, might as well have been a short sword, but she looked normal enough. The problem was the mass of cloth floating next to Crochet. That would definitely have alarm bells ringing.

“Crochet, sweetie, could you maybe hide all that?” Taylor asked.

Crochet looked up from her work, the needles never pausing in their stitching. “I’m nearly done, Big Sis, but if you want me to stop, I will.”

“Done with what, exactly?” Taylor asked.

Crochet hummed, then focused harder on her work. The needles flew faster for a moment, and then the entire thing flipped inside out. It was a bunny. A giant bunny that was, with its long floppy ears sticking out, as tall as Crochet.

The bunny landed on its big padded feet, then shook its bum as if testing its balance. “It’s done!” Crochet announced with a small smile that she directed right at Taylor.

“‘S kinda cute,” Cheshire admitted with some reluctance. She reached out and patted the bunny between the ears before the plushie smacked her hand away.

“Don’t touch Miss Cottontail. She’s clean and pure and you’ll infect her with your stupid,” Crochet said.

Cheshire gasped and turned a glare onto Crochet. She looked like she was going to attack the shorter girl, but Miss Cottontail hopped between the two and spread her arms out wide.

“I ain’t scared of your bunny,” Cheshire said.

The bunny’s paws flexed and the sharp ends of scissors poked through like razor-tipped claws.

“Meh, so what?” Cheshire added.

Mis Cottontail opened her mouth, revealing an entire sewing set’s worth of needles set in a perfectly round mouth, all of them spinning around in tight little circles like the inside of a blender. Crochet huffed at her bigger sister. "Bunny bites back, bitch."

"Crochet!" Taylor said.

The girl flinched, eyes downcast and hands coming up to twiddle together above her tummy. "Sorry. It was an alliteration. I couldn't resist."

Taylor shook her head and tried to get her thoughts in line. “Can you lift... Miss Cottontail, Crochet? We’re trying to be discreet here.”

“I can,” Crochet said. With some reluctance she let go of Taylor’s hand and picked up the bunny plushie, tucking it under her arm so that its legs dangled behind her, then got a hold of Taylor’s hand again.

“Right, Cheshire, Crochet... new girl, stay close. Act casual,” Taylor said.

Still holding onto her two little sisters, Taylor walked onto the road and turned in the direction of home. She had planned on walking all the way back, but was now considering taking the bus. A bus she could afford with the wallets of those three thugs burning a hole in her pocket.

“You are very tense, Onee-sama,” the new girl said.

Taylor made a conscious effort to relax. “You’re right. We should talk. Um. We should find you a name. I can’t keep calling you ‘new girl’ in my head, it’s rude.”

“If Onee-sama wishes.”

Cheshire hummed. “We should call her something that starts with the letter C.”

“For more alliterations?” Crochet said. She didn’t sound averse to the idea. “Maybe, but it could be something else too.”

“Nah, I’ve got plenty of ideas,” Cheshire said before turning halfway around to flash the new girl a devilish smile. “Names like Crap, and Cheap and Crybaby and Cun--”

“Cheshire!” Taylor said. “Don’t be mean to your new sister. You’re the oldest, you should be setting the example here.”

“If she is inadequate, I can remove her for you, Onee-sama.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Taylor said. But the look she gave Cheshire said ‘yet.’ “Your powers allow you to teleport, right?”

“They do, Onee-sama.”

“Maybe something like... Port?” Taylor tried.

“‘Cause you want to plug somethin’ into her?” Cheshire asked.

Taylor felt the blood drain out of her face. “Not that then. How about... Pop?”

“Poppu?” the new girl repeated. It sounded so innocent and, frankly, cute, that Taylor almost missed a step. “This is acceptable.”

Taylor grinned, finally feeling far more relaxed. “Good. Pop it is. My third littlest sister after Cheshire and Crochet. I like it.” She placed a hand on Pop’s head and rubbed it a little. Pop closed her eyes and pushed into Taylor’s hand.

“Thank you for the name, Onee-sama. I will wear the title of Poppu with pride.”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Fifteen

It was a Sunday morning and Taylor Hebert had a mission. Sorta.

She extricated herself from Cheshire’s grip, gingerly stepped over the blankets Crochet used as a makeshift bed right next to hers, and padded downstairs on slippered feet while covering up a yawn.

Her two eldest little sisters were still sleeping peacefully, which meant she had a few minutes to get breakfast ready and prepare for the long day ahead. If her little sisters wanted to play at being heroes, then there were things they would need. After the fight with Oni Lee - and hadn’t that cut a few years off her life - she was prepared, somewhat, to acknowledge that maybe her sisters could handle themselves.

Maybe. With supervision. And some training.

Frankly, the Wards were starting to sound like a good idea. Maybe. If they swore not to cut open her little sisters to see how they worked.

“Hello, Onee-sama,” came Pop’s voice as Taylor slid into the kitchen.

The littlest sister was moving a chair away from the pantry, a still-sealed cup of ramen sitting on it as she brought the chair back to the table.

“Hey there, Pop,” Taylor said as she slid past. She placed a hand on the girl’s head and gave it a ruffle before moving on. “You’re up early?” she asked, turning the statement into a question.

Pop reached up to her head and blinked a few times before rearranging her hair. She was probably miffed that Taylor had messed up her ponytail. “Yes, Onee-sama. I do not need much sleep.”

“Uh-huh,” Taylor said. She covered another yawn and began filling a carafe full of water from the sink before placing it in the coffee machine. The device started gurgling and sweet dark ambrosia began to sputter out while Taylor found her favourite woodstock mug.

Tea was well and good, but she wanted to wake up properly. Her dad would like some too, when he finally got down.

“So, Pop,” she said. She had to get to know her sisters better, all of them, but especially Pop who was otherwise so quiet. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Ninja things,” Pop said.

“Ninja... things?”

“Yes, Onee-sama.”

“Right,” Taylor said. Maybe she could learn about Pop some other way. Grabbing the jug of coffee from the machine, she brought it over to the table, poured herself a mug, then set it down on the wooden board in the middle of the table where the scent of fresh coffee could spread across the house.

Pop climbed onto her seat, opened cup ramen before her, grabbed the coffee and under Taylor’s wide-eyed stare, poured some into the cup full of noodles. She carefully replaced the now lighter jug in the middle of the table, pulled out two chopsticks and laid them atop the steaming styrofoam cup.

Taylor brought her mug to her lips and took a long sip while Pop just stared at her cup and waited. After a little while, she opened the pack of chicken broth that came with the noodles, poured it in, then mixed it all with a chopstick. “Itadakimasu,” Pop said before digging in.

With the kind of detachment only possible before eight A.M.on a weekend, Taylor decided not to comment on anything she had seen. “So, we have all day to prepare for things, and our shopping yesterday was interrupted. I was thinking the thr- four of us could go out again, maybe grab you guys some casual clothes and materials for Crochet. We’ll need to find another shop for it, though.”

“If Onee-sama goes, then I will protect her,” Pop said.

“I don’t need protecting, and it’s just some shopping,” Taylor argued.

Pop’s eyes narrowed. “My research into the ninja ways suggest that my Onee-sama will be in danger when I am not there to protect her. So I will always be there to protect her.”

“Uh-huh, and what about when I’m in school?” Taylor asked.

Pop nodded. “I will need to be discreet.”

Before Taylor could start poking holes into that idea, two pairs of footsteps trampled into the kitchen. Cheshire took one look at Pop and grimaced. “Thought you’d’ve left in the night,” she grumbled. “Popped outta existence, you know?”

“I could remove your existence,” Pop suggested.

They glared at each other while Taylor poured herself another mug. “Coffee, Big Sis?” Crochet asked. She sounded a little disappointed at that.

“I need it,” Taylor said. She reached out and placed a hand over Pop’s just as the girl was reaching for the knife tucked into her sleeping shorts. “No stabbing in the kitchen. Or elsewhere in the house. In fact, no trying to kill your sisters. That goes for all of you.”

“What ‘bout maimin’?” Cheshire asked with the most innocent of smiles.

"I have an electric fly swatter and I'm not afraid to use it," Taylor pointed out easily. She had to hide her enjoyment at seeing Cheshire’s grin fade and her face go pale.

Cheshire’s cheeks puffed way out. “Ya wouldn’t.”

“I will pull you onto my knee and spank you until your tush is red. Right in front of your sisters too,” Taylor added. She narrowed her eyes a little. “Behave. It’s too early for all of this... thisness.”

“Hrm, fine,” Cheshire said, but not before giving Pop a look that threatened mischief as soon as Taylor’s back was turned.

Sighing, Taylor placed a hand on Crochet’s head and gave it a good pat. “At least you’re well behaved,” she said. “One out of three isn’t bad.” Standing up, Taylor brought her mug to the sink then made her way back towards the stairs. “I’ll be getting changed. You girls get breakfast done and do the same, okay?”

As she left, she failed to notice the absolute deluge of smugness emanating from Crochet, or the looks she was receiving from her sisters.

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Sixteen

A week ago, Taylor wouldn’t have given single parents any more respect than she afforded to anyone else. Sure they had to deal with kids on their own, but that wasn’t a big deal. She even planned on maybe being a mom one day.

She was reconsidering her position on the matter.

In fact, Taylor decided that if she died a virgin matron, stuck knitting on her own in the dark corner of an old folks’ home with no children to visit her, then that would be a perfectly acceptable way to go.

“Cheshire, I swear to all the gods, all of them, that if you don’t put that chocolate bar back right now I will... find some creative way to make your life miserable.”

Cheshire oh so slowly put the bar back on the rack and pulled her hand back. Next to her, Crochet was wearing an absolutely flat look, accentuated by the pile of cloth she held in one hand and the plush rabbit hanging around her neck.

At least Pop was quiet.

She blinked and started looking around, getting onto the tips of her toes to try and spot her Asian little sister. The Dollar and Less store was pretty empty. Probably normal for a Sunday afternoon, so she should have been able to find her.

“Are you looking for something, Onee-sama?” came a smooth voice from right behind her.

Taylor spun around and placed a hand over her beating heart. “Holy- Pop, you scared me. How did you get behind me without me noticing?”

“I am a ninja.”

“Right,” Taylor said. “Right, ninja stuff.” Shaking her head, she made sure the other two were not committing any major felonies, then moved towards the checkout. The pitying look she got from the boy behind the till had her holding back tears.

“Babysitting?” the guy behind the cash register asked.

“Yeah,” Taylor said. Her hand shot out and caught Cheshire’s wrist inches away from a display of bubblegum. “Do you know if hanging a kid by their ankles is a crime or not?” she asked.

The guy smiled, and despite his acne and the fact that he was maybe two or three years older than her and working in a store that made their employees wear green vests, it made him look cute. “I don’t think that’ll fly. But I know a few tricks I use on my cousins when they come over to visit,” he said.

“Oh, do tell,” she said while leaning onto the counter. Her feet were killing her.

“Distractions. The bigger and louder, the better. Video games work, but my cousins are all little dudes. Maybe a movie? Or just keep threatening to hang them upside-down.” He smiled some more. “Though I prefer to just give them vague threats, usually with something dangerous looking around.”

“That’s some sound parenting advice,” Taylor said. She felt her own smile growing to match his.

“Big Sis, are you flirting with that weirdo?” Crochet asked with the same tone she would use if Taylor had picked up dog droppings with her bare hands.

Taylor felt the blood rushing to her face and she noticed the guy she had been talking to pull back and look at the display of his cash register, suddenly the picture of professionalism. “N-no, I wasn’t flirting,” Taylor denied.

“Uh huh,” Crochet said.

“But it sounds like you're flirting with getting a time-out,” Taylor muttered under her breath.

“That’ll be thirty-two sixty,” the guy said. He still wasn’t meeting Taylor’s eyes. She slid the money across the counter, the back of her mind counting what was left of her cash. It wasn’t much.

She grabbed the two nearest small hands and tugged them along after her as she left, bags wrapped around her wrists. “Okay, now where?” she asked as soon as they were outside. The sun was hidden behind a thin layer of greyish clouds and the air was a little bit chilly, as if still fighting with the last vestige of winter.

The streets were mostly clear, only a few groups walking here and there. No one that Taylor gave more than a moment’s attention to.

“Ice cream?” Cheshire asked.

“Can’t afford that,” Taylor was quick to point out. “And dad bought a box yesterday.”

Pop shook her head. “There is no more ice cream, Onee-sama. It has disappeared.”

“Disappeared how?” she asked.

Pop looked away from her, finding the asphalt very interesting all of a sudden. “Bandits?” she tried.

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Taylor muttered. “Alright, come on,” she told her flock of little sisters before starting down the road. They were only a block away from the Boardwalk, in a part of the city that generally safe. It was the kind of place that the Wards patrolled and where a police car could be seen every few minutes. “Did you get everything you needed, Crochet?”

“Yes, Big Sis,” the girl said. She beamed up at Taylor. “I might have to use some old clothes to make you a proper costume though.”

“And for your sisters?” she asked. “If you guys insist on going out, you all need to protect your identities.”

“Do we get cape names? I want a cape name,” Cheshire said. “Can I be the Ravisher?”

“Do you even know what that means?” Taylor asked.

“It means I’m fu- uh, frickin’ awesome?” Cheshire asked.

Taylor shook her head. “We’ll find something for you.”

“I am a little girl,” Pop asserted with an odd level of conviction for that sort of statement. “I will be Lollipop.”

“We’ll find something for you too,” Taylor said.

Taylor let them keep talking, as long as they were arguing over names, they weren’t causing trouble. She could veto the more horrific ideas later. Arriving at the next intersection, Taylor did a quick headcount. One, two, three, four little sisters.

She continued, aiming away from the Boardwalk and towards the nearest bus station. She was halfway there when something felt wrong and she looked around. There was less traffic on the street they were on, only a van idling nearby and a few sedans trying to parallel park in the spots between other cars. That wasn’t it. She counted her sisters again. One, two, three, four little sisters.

She paused at the last one, taking in the short brown haired girl standing next to Crochet. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Ah, hi,” the girl said with a rather timid smile. “I’m Dinah.”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Seventeen

Taylor bent forwards, hands on knees, so that she could look Dinah in the eye. “I’m sorry, did you lose your parents?” she asked. In all likelihood Dinah had attached herself to her group of sisters because they were close to her age and probably safe. It was better than having a preteen wandering around on her own.

Dinah shook her head. “I know where my parents are,” she replied. “No, being with them isn’t safe.”

Taylor felt herself tensing for a moment. Her mind immediately went to some dark places before she plastered a smile on. Unfortunately, Cheshire spoke first. “Ya need me ta kick y’er parents in the cooch?”

Sighing, Taylor placed a hand on Cheshire’s head and began smoothing the girl’s hair back. For some reason that Taylor couldn’t fathom, patting the girl’s head was a great way to shut her up. “That’s enough, Cheshire.”

Dinah smiled rather shyly but shook her head. “No, my parents are great. They’re the best. It’s the bad men I need to hide from. The numbers say that being near you means I’ll be safe.”

“The numbers?” Crochet asked. She tilted her head to one side to better examine the new girl in the group. “What numbers?”

Dinah gestured to the side of her head. “The numbers I hear. Not hear-hear, but sorta see in my head when people ask questions. They work when I ask questions too. But if I ask too many they get loud and complicated and start to hurt a lot. So I can only ask to see so many numbers.” Dinah took a long breath. “Anyway, they said that you would keep me safe from the bad men.”

Taylor, with a sinking heart, realised that the girl was quite possibly insane, and that she was likely the most qualified individual in the immediate vicinity when it came to dealing with insane little girls.

“Right,” Taylor said. “Well, how about we go see your parents and see where we can go from there?”

Dinah looked away, her eyes going a bit glassy for a moment before she nodded with the kind of serious face that only a preteen could wear. “Okay.”

“Good, now where’s your mommy?” Reaching out, Taylor was about to pat the girl on the head when two hands and a bright pink ribbon simultaneously wrapped themselves around her arm, all tugging her hand away from Dinah’s head. “What?”

Cheshire had a hand around Taylor’s wrist, Pop was holding her upper arm, and the ribbon was tugging her elbow away. “No,” Cheshire said gravely. “Headpats are for little sisters.” Her other two sisters nodded in silent agreement.

Dinah giggled and Taylor decided to give up. It wasn’t worth it. “My mom’s over there by that boutique,” Dinah said as she pointed off to her right.

“Okay, come on.” Taylor herded her flock of little sisters with a few pats and some waving. Dinah fell in with the others. Taylor wondered if her power included some sort of Master ability over little sisters, but one look at Cheshire with her finger jammed up her nose killed that line of thought.

They were nearly at the Boardwalk when Taylor heard a car slowing to a stop next to them. She turned in time to see a panel van rumbling up alongside her group of girls. The door at its side was torn open and three men jumped out.

A scream caught in her throat as the first man with a balaclava shoved her back, sending her stumbling onto her rear on the sidewalk. There was screaming, from her sisters but also from Dinah and then the voice of one man joined in it.

When she looked up again she found that two Pops were standing on both sides of one man, both of them sheathing their knives with a flick and click while the man looked down at the stumps where his arms had been. “You will not touch Onee-sama with your filthy gaijin hands.”

The disarmed man was tugged back into the van by one of his companions while the other pulled out a gun and aimed it at the girls. They all froze for a few long seconds while a fourth jumped out and reached for Dinah.

Cheshire growled and pulled a kitchen knife from somewhere.

The man fired and Taylor flinched back; the noise was so loud it felt like she’d been slapped in the ears.

Cheshire rematerialized before him and stabbed the knife into the gun. “Bitch!” she screamed before punching him in the crotch. It didn’t seem to do much, but the man’s retaliatory backhand didn’t do anything either as it passed through Cheshire.

Dinah screamed and kicked as she was grabbed, but cut off when a few ribbons wrapped themselves around the thug’s throat and started digging into his skin. He pulled back, hands scrambling for purchase against pink unicorn covered cloth.

“Pull back!” someone yelled from the passenger seat of the car. The men were quick to move back into the van; the door slammed shut and with a squeal of rubber on asphalt, the van rushed away and through a red light at the end of the road.

Taylor was panting even though her part of the action was little more than a stumble and fall. “Is everyone okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Dinah said, surprisingly calm all things considered.

“Yeah,” Cheshire added. She was looking at the knife still jammed through a handgun in her hand. The two were fused together and even her prying wasn’t helping them apart.

One of the Pops faded to ash while the other pulled her knife out and began to clean it with a piece of cloth.

“B-Big Sis?”

Taylor felt the world freeze.

Crochet had been at the back of the group, a little way away from all the rest. In the path of the gunshot.

Teary eyes rose up to look at Taylor while bloody hands were pressed against her tummy.

“Oh no,” Dinah said.

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Eighteen

Victoria’s first thought upon seeing the girl was ‘oh boy, here we go again.’ To be fair, it wasn’t exactly uncommon for her to run into fans that were perhaps a little overenthusiastic.

Then she noticed that the girl who was wearing jeans and a frumpy hoodie was also covered in specks of blood, had mud down the back of her pants and her eyes were just this side of crazy. Unless this was a seriously out-there fashion statement, something was clearly wrong.

She stepped up between her sister and the new crazy, an easy smile stretching across her features even as she tried to look disarming. They were in a busy clothing store, not the best place for a possibly violent confrontation. At least the Boardwalk had guards around. No doubt they’d be around in a minute or two.

The girl was panting, chest heaving until she locked onto Amy. “Panacea,” she said.

“Hey,” Victoria said as she stepped to the side to better cut the girl’s line of sight to her sister. “What am I, a side of beef?” she asked.

“What?” the girl said. She looked at Victoria as if seeing her for the first time, then dismissed her just as easily. Insulting much. “I’m sorry, I need Panacea.”

“I’m sure you do,” Victoria said. “But my sister’s not working right now. If you need help, you should go to Brockton General. It’s only a few blocks away.”

“I, no,” the girl said. She shook her head. “My sister, she was shot. She’s just, just two streets down, please.” 

Victoria paused. There was real panic there. She’d seen her share of people freaking out and this looked as genuine as anything else. “Vicky,” Amy said from behind her.

“Yeah, I know,” Victoria said. She wasn’t the one in charge here, but Amy usually deferred to her. If this wasn’t some sort of false alarm... “What happened?” 

“We don’t have time for-” the girl winced, paused for a second, then started. “We were walking. We found this girl, she was lost. A van stopped, tried to grab the girl. A guy shot at us. It hit my sister. She’s hurt. Please, Crochet needs help. We can’t go to the hospital.”

“Crochet?” Victoria asked. Was that supposed to be a name?

“That’s my sister’s name.”

“Ah,” Victoria said. So the girl was insane. That made things so much easier to deal with. “How about we go outside, and you can sit down on one of those nice, comfy seats and we can chat for a bit,” Victoria said.

The girl looked confused for a moment, then clarity shot across her features. “You don’t believe me.”

“Hey now, I didn’t say that,” Victoria dismissed. She felt Amy moving to her side, and to be fair, this girl probably didn’t pose a serious threat to Amy with Victoria present. She seemed like she might be on something. Usually junkies weren’t allowed on the Boardwalk, but this one might have gotten past.

“No, I need Panacea, please,” the girl said. She reached out towards Amy, but Victoria was faster. She had her by the wrist before she could so much as touch her sister. “Huh?” the girl said, her attention fixed on where Victoria was holding her. “You’re not a parahuman?”

Victoria raised one well manicured eyebrow and shared a look with her sister. “Maybe,” Amy began, “I should check to see if she’s okay.” She reached out and gingerly touched the girl’s hand, then blinked dumbly. 

“Thank you!” the girl said as she pulled back. Victoria let her go, surprised by the change in direction and the sudden hope blooming across the girl’s face. She moved right out of the store at a sprint, almost tripping over her own feet.

“She was a cape,” Amy said in her type 2 unimpressed voice, the one for things that were surprising and yet disappointingly failed to make her give a damn.

Victoria felt a shiver run down her back. A few things clicked. “Ah, shit,” she said. “Amy stay here. Watch my bags.” She had time to see Amy’s eyes roll before she was out of the shop and taking to the air. 

She didn’t have to climb far to see her target. The girl was obviously a little out of shape if she had only gotten that far in nearly a minute. Swooping down, Victoria executed a perfect backflip and landed on the point of her toes. Thank you, Mouse Protector’s Mouse Protecting Show. There were only so many cool landings out there. The cartoon was inspiration itself. “Hey there,” she said. Her smile was maybe a little predatory now. “Remember me?”

The girl shook her head. “I don’t have time-” she said before trying to step around Victoria. 

“Make time,” Victoria said.

The girl looked around, noticing all the people paying attention, then the hands-on-hips pose Victoria was holding an inch above the ground. She ran. 

Victoria blinked at the spot the girl had been in. She had expected her to crumble, to give up, to bow before Vicky’s Vickiness. Instead she had darted into an alley between two buildings and was panting even as the tap-tap of her sneakers echoed out behind her.

Shaking her head, Victoria flew after her, over her, and then before her, blocking her path again. This time, there wouldn’t be any escaping. “Okay, enough,” Victoria said. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

The girl looked around, and for a moment, Victoria thought she might try running back out to the street. For all the good that would do her. Instead, her hands balled into fists. “Please. I need to get to my sister. I can explain things once I get there.”

“I think you can explain things right now,” Victoria said.

The girl looked ready to deck Victoria in the nose, but instead she took a deep breath and calmed down. “I’m a power copier,” she said. “I touched your sister, I can make a clone to heal mine.”

“Pull the other one.”

The girl grit her teeth, frowned, then with a pop and a flash of yellowish light, they were no longer alone in the alleyway.

It had been a while since Victoria had last seen a picture of her sister at age eleven or so, but she would recognize that scowling face anywhere. “Big Sis?” the girl said.

“What.” Victoria stepped closer to the girl, taking in the long white robes at a glance, but focusing on the freckle-covered face, the tiny nose and puffy cheeks that she had grown up with. 

“Do you believe me now?” the girl asked as she pulled the small Amy closer. “We need to go, now!”

They were halfway down the alley when Victoria came back to herself with a start. “Hey, wait!”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Nineteen  
She had felt like the worst trash in the world when she left Crochet to go find the Dallon sisters on little more than Dinah’s word. It had weighed on her the entire time, the thought that she might have been wasting her time, that maybe bringing Crochet to a hospital would be better, that calling the police would be a safer bet, consequences be damned. That she would, in the worst and most nightmarish scenario, return to find Crochet just gone.

Seeing her new little sister press her hand against Crochet’s arm, then seeing the wound close, was like being doused in cold water. The tension that she had been feeling like a sack of bricks on her back eased, the mounting fear loosened, and Taylor felt like she wanted to do little more than to curl up into a ball and cry.

Instead, she grabbed Crochet from the wall she was sitting against, inspected her wound with a quick look, and squeezed the girl for all she was worth.

“Big Sis, you’re squishing me,” Crochet complained into Taylor’s shoulder.

“I don’t care.” Taylor’s squeeze tightened even more and she hoped that Crochet’s hair wouldn’t get too damp from her tears. “I don’t care. You’re okay now. You’re okay.”

Crochet let herself go limp in Taylor’s grasp before giving in to the hug to slowly wrap an arm around Taylor’s waist. “This is very inappropriate,” she said. “Hugging in public like this.”

Taylor laughed, and if it sounded watery and on the verge of turning into a sob, no one commented.

“Big Sis, you cryin’ just cause this wimp got shot a bit?” Cheshire asked.

No one but Cheshire.

Taylor finally let go of Crochet after giving her another squeeze and held the girl out at arm’s length to make sure she was fine. Turning to the new girl, she gave her a winning smile. “Thank you,” she said.

The girl shrugged, dismissing Taylor with one look and a vague gesture. “It was nothing.” She said.

Taylor shook her head and reached out with one arm, pulling the girl close and into the hug she was sharing with Crochet. “It wasn’t nothing. Thank you.”

The girl squirmed a little, looking uncertain before she looked Crochet up and down. “Try not to get shot so much. I’m sure I’ve got better things to do.”

“Aww,” Cheshire said, and Taylor just knew that the next words out of her mouth were going to be an insult. “But now y’er here to heal us up, yeah?”

Taylor let go of the two girls and climbed back to her feet. She couldn’t remember falling to her knees. She started rubbing her cheeks dry. She had to be the big sister here, and crying wouldn’t help any.

The small Panacea gave her older sister a flat look. “I’m sorry, I don’t do brains.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Cheshire asked.

“It means I couldn’t heal whatever’s wrong with you.”

Cheshire smiled at her newest sister, then pulled out a knife from somewhere. “Okay,” Taylor said as she got between the two. “That’s more than enough. We can do introductions at home, later.”

She surveyed the alleyway they had ducked into for cover. Pop was on the rooftop above, crouching in the shadows of an air conditioning unit. Crochet and Cheshire were in the middle of the alleyway, the newly healed girl poking at the messy wound in her costume while hugging Miss Cottontail.

The new girl, of course, was right next to Taylor, her white and red-trimmed robes already getting stained at the hem from all the dirt and detritus the alley was filled with.

And Dinah Alcott was off to one side, looking rather lonely despite being with an entire group of girls her own age. “Dinah?” Taylor asked.

The girl looked up, then back down again. Her hands fidgeted by her waist. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Sorry for what?” Taylor asked. Though she had a few suspicions. She was becoming really good at reading the emotions of annoying little girls.

“All of this. It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t interfere. And, and now it might happen again. I don’t know.” She started talking faster after peeking at Taylor. Taylor didn’t know what emotion was on her face, only that it scared the girl. “The bad man, the one that wants to hurt me. He’s going to be going after you now. And it’s my fault.”

“Then we’ll kick his ass,” Cheshire said. 

Taylor allowed a bit of a grin at that. “Cheshire is right. Though maybe I’d tone down the language a bit. We’re a family. You’re on your own, I think. We’ll manage. But if you have any other hints, it probably wouldn’t hurt for you to tell us.” After having the girl tell her the location of the Dallon sisters accompanied by the odds of Taylor getting back in time to save Crochet, Taylor’s doubts about her parahumanity were fading fast. 

“I will,” Dinah said. “Thank you.”

“No problem. We should all head out,” Taylor said. She was about to offer to help Dinah find her parents again when a shadow flitted past. Taylor looked up in time to see Glory Girl carrying Panacea in a bridal carry, bags in both hands, hovering above them. 

The sisters came to a gentle landing between Taylor, her sisters, and the mouth of the alley. “What’s going on here?” Glory Girl asked. She was looking between Taylor and all the girls, but mostly the small Amy who was waving at her.

Taylor felt her heart sinking. She really didn’t want to be the one to deal with the capes, but technically, she was the oldest one around, and keeping her sisters safe was her responsibility. “Nothing,” she said as she stepped a little closer, placing herself between her sisters and the New Wave capes.

“Yeah, a whole lot of nothing,” Panacea said.

“Kind of like what’s in between your ears, huh?” her smaller counterpart said.

Taylor stepped back and placed a hand on her new sister’s head. “That’s enough,” she said. “Let’s try being nice, please.”

“Yeah, let’s all be real nice to each other,” Glory Girl said. “Because this isn’t the most suspicious thing I’ve ever seen, but it’s right up there.”

Taylor looked around for an escape, just in case, but it was probably a lost cause. She had managed to escape from Glory Girl once, but it was almost a fluke. She couldn’t do it with this many sisters to keep safe. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yeah, you can tell us what the heck is going on.”

She stood a little taller. “What happened is that you tried to stop me from saving my sister’s life,” Taylor said.

Victoria looked between Taylor, then Crochet and the still dirty patch on her shift. She had the good grace to wince a little before firming her resolve. “That’s... yeah, okay, but I still want to know what’s going on here.”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty

Taylor always expected that she would have to explain her power to someone someday. Maybe a teammate, maybe some bored PRT officer sitting behind a desk, maybe (to her potential-mortification) to her dad.

She didn’t think it would be to two celebrities in the middle of a literally bloody alleyway. “I can explain,” she said.

“Yeah, I sure hope you can,” Glory Girl said. “You can start with names.”

“Ah, that might be complicated,” Taylor hedged. None of her sisters had what anyone would call an ordinary name to begin with. “I’m Taylor. Taylor Hebert. Um, these are my sisters.” she gestured at all the girls, then paused over Dinah. “Except her.”

“Hi, I’m Dinah,” said Dinah. “I was being kidnapped, so Taylor saved me.”

“Uh-huh,” Glory Girl said. She made a little gesture with a roll of her wrist, a sort of ‘get on with it.’ It seemed like Glory Girl had read the same ‘Body Language for Condescending Bitches’ book as Emma had. “If that’s the case, you won’t mind coming with us, right Dinah?”

Dinah shrugged one shoulder. “Okay,” she said before walking over to the New Wave girls. They seemed surprised by her nonchalance; she wasn’t acting according to the ‘kidnapped little girl’ script.

Nodding, Taylor continued. “My power is that I can make, um, sorta-clones of capes by touching them. They’re not the same person though. No memories or anything like that. Just a little sister version of that cape. And they’re really nice.”

“Hello,” Crochet said with a quick curtsey.

“Sup, bitch,” Cheshire said.

“Mostly nice,” Taylor added. She tried to smile, but it felt really brittle. “Um, Dinah was being kidnapped, so we helped, or tried to, but then Crochet,” she began, placing a hand on the girl in question. “She got hurt. And I couldn’t lose her, not someone else, and Dinah said you were close and that you could help.”

Glory Girl made shushing motions and Taylor realised that her voice had been rising a little the entire time. It was Panacea that spoke next. She touched her sister on the arm, then focused on the little sister that had come from her. “So what’s with her?” she asked.

“I... I couldn’t convince you to help me. I’m sorry,” Taylor said. “I had to make a new little sister to save Crochet. That’s her. She doesn’t have a name yet.”

“What am I, a side of beef?” the newest little sister asked. She tried scowling, but failed and only ended up with a pout. She huffed, uncrossed her arms, and turned towards Glory Girl with an assessing look.

“Amy,” Glory Girl said.

“Don’t,” Panacea said with a warning note in her voice.

Glory Girl ignored her sister with aplomb and walked over to Taylor’s newest little sister, then bent forwards at the hip to look her in the eye. “Hi.”

“You’re Glory Girl,” the sister said, sounding rather shy all of a sudden.

“And you, are adorable,” Glory Girl said. She reached out and grabbed the smaller Panacea under each armpit and lifted her up to head height.

“Big Sis, please don’t let that be my name,” the little sister, who looked like little more than a kitten being grabbed by the scruff of its neck, asked.

“No no, you need a much better name than that,” Glory Girl said.

“Um.” Taylor shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Big Sis is me, actually. That’s what they call me.”

Glory Girl blinked. “Oh, right. Well, I can be your Bigger Sis, then,” she said to the girl still held in her arms.

The little girl frowned thoughtfully. "No, I only have one big sister. Maybe you could be my girlfriend?”

Glory Girl looked startled for a few long seconds, then broke out into peals of laughter. She turned towards Panacea, smile still in place. “Did you hear that, Ames?”

“I did,” Panacea bit out.

Glory Girl laughed some more, and Taylor felt the tension just draining out of the alleyway. “Maybe when you’re older, little Amy,” Glory Girl said as she placed the girl back down.

“You could at least hug me, if you’re gonna manhandle me like that,” the tiny healer said.

Glory Girl snorted, but patted the girl on the head anyway before focusing on Taylor. “So, you have the most awesome power ever, basically.”

Taylor felt her expression going flat. “Yeah, sure. Do you like babysitting?”

“Uh,” Glory Girl said. She eyed all the girls and Taylor could almost hear the mental tally rising. “Well, if it was just small Amy.”

“I might take you up on that,” Taylor admitted. She was losing the tenseness as they went on. Her nightmares of violence and accusations was fading. “So, now what?”

The two cape sisters shared a look. Panacea sighed, then hitched her shoulder. “I don’t know. I feel like we should be reporting this.”

“No!” Taylor said. She only realized that it was a shout after she had said it. “No, please. I... if you report me, they might take my sisters. Or, or they’ll do things to them.” She grabbed Crochet, the nearest sister and pulled her close. It wasn’t something she wanted to think on much, but her sisters were important, they needed protecting.

“Dammit,” Glory Girl said. She ran a hand through her hair and frowned at the lot of them before turning back to her own sister. “We can’t call the PRT on them, Amy. Armsy would be anal about them and Piggot would probably freak out, you know how unreasonable she is.”

Panacea rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because a clone-making cape that can make more capes isn’t worth freaking out over.”

“Oh, come on, look at them, Ames. They’re harmless.” Glory Girl picked up small Amy and held her up again. As soon as she was lifted, the girl went limp and dangled in Glory Girl’s grip.

Panacea glared, but she relented. “Fine, but she should have to report to someone.”

Glory Girl’s smile was radiant. “I’ll ask mom. And then we can try to figure out what this whole kidnapping business is all about.”

Taylor had the impression that she wasn’t out of trouble just yet. “Can, can we go home now?” she asked. She felt a small hand poking at hers and gripped it without even looking to see who it belonged to.

Glory Girl and Panacea shared another inscrutable look. “Yeah, yeah you can go,” Glory Girl said. “But I’ll be texting you my number, and I expect you to show up at our place tomorrow. You can talk with my mom or Aunt Sarah. They’ll know what to do about the whole kidnapping and clone thing.”

***

Coil rewound the footage to the start. This time his attention wasn’t on the Alcott girl, but on all the other children with her. The oldest looked to be no more than fifteen or sixteen at most, the rest were all his future pet’s age, if he had to guess.

The van pulled up, his men acted. That had been the moment where time was split, where success should have been guaranteed. In this reality, the one that remained, the men fought, one lost his hands, another was kicked back. A gun flashed and one of the children fell back.

Then things got even worse and the squad leader pulled back.

The footage ended there, with the oldest girl panicking over the injured one and his pet talking to her.

But he remembered the other reality. The one were his man shot the older girl. The reality where Dinah was captured. The reality where, minutes later as he eagerly awaited the arrival of his pet, a pair of girls phased through the walls of his base and chopped his head off.

Coil clenched his fists on the armrest of his throne-like chair. So close. But a new player was on the board.

He slammed his fist down. “And I would have gotten her too, if it weren’t for those meddling kids!”

***

Unexpected bonus chapter thing because it’s Sunday and I’m in a good mood!

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.

Also also, check this out: https://i.imgur.com/X0Jd6rb.png  
A spectacular image by zoufii over on the main story thread on SpaceBattles!


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-One  
AN: New levels of degeneracy are reached in this chapter. Contains forehead kissing. Read at your own risk. 

***

“Remedy,” Big Sis said.

She looked up, blinking to clear her eyes of morning crud so that she could focus on Big Sis better. She was still half asleep, her legs tangled with Cheshire’s and her head resting on Crochet’s tummy. She groaned and pushed herself up, her free hand rubbing at her face. “Wha?”

Big Sis smiled down at her, then reached out and moved a lock of hair so that it looped behind her ear. “Remedy,” she repeated. “We didn’t get you a name yesterday, what with me panicking and all. So I was thinking this morning. Remedy. Do you like it?”

“Remedy,” she repeated, trying the word on for size. It was nice. Soft, and it sounded like something good. “It’s nice enough, I guess.”

Big Sis smiled at her and Remedy had to bury her face back into Crochet’s tummy to hide her blush. “Well then, Remedy, you take care of your sisters today, okay? I have to head out to school. I’ll see you all later.”

“Mmm, bye,” she said.

Big Sis gave the back of her head a small pat and Remedy felt herself flushing even more. She looked up in time to see Big Sis leaning down. She felt Big Sis’ lips on her forehead.

“Big Sis!” Remedy screamed as she flailed into a sitting position. “Y-you can’t d-do that!” Her forehead felt like it was on fire. A nice warm fire that had her whole face going so red that every freckle stood out like tiny pinpricks.

“Wha’sit?” Cheshire said as she flopped onto her knees and started glaring around the room. “Wha’s goin’ on?” she slurred.

Big Sis laughed, even if her face was really, really red. “My mom used to do that for me when she was leaving, it just felt right.”

“W-well, well it isn’t,” Remedy said. She could hardly think straight her face was so warm.

“What’d you do?” Cheshire asked. 

Crochet was using a little handkerchief to wipe her face clean. “What is going on?” she asked.

“Just saying ‘bye’ before I go to school,” Big Sis said. She placed a hand on Cheshire’s head and the girl paused. Then Big Sis planted a peck on Cheshire’s forehead with a big loud ‘muah’ sound.

Cheshire’s eyes went wide, her breathing hitched, then her eyes rolled up into her head and she fainted.

Big Sis stared at the bundle that had been Cheshire. “Um.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Remedy jumped to say.

“Right,” Big Sis said. She turned to Crochet, only for the girl to get onto her knees, hands on her lap and eyes down. “Do you want a good-bye kiss too, Crochet?” Big Sis asked.

Crochet nodded a little, so Big Sis chuckled and pecked her on the head too. 

At least she didn’t faint. 

“Okay, I have to head out. And I need to find Pop. See you all later, okay?” Big Sis said as she got up and left.

Crochet was the first to really move. She brought one hand up and almost reluctantly touched her forehead. Then she started to giggle. 

Remedy soon joined her.

***

“I want ears.”

Remedy looked away from the computer. It was an old machine, and a bit slow, and the images on the site took a long time to appear, but she was patient. “What?” she asked her bigger sister.

Cheshire placed her hands on her hips and tried to look like Big Sis when Big Sis was being serious. “I wan’ ears.” she raised one hand to point at the side of her head.

Remedy looked at Cheshire’s ears, which were still there, then turned back to the computer. The Glory Girl Official Fanclub page was done loading, even if not all of the images had worked. That still left plenty to look at. She had to fill out her form for joining the official fanclub. It required parental permission if the member was less than 13, so she would have to ask Big Sis later.

“Hey!” Cheshire said before poking Remedy in the ribs. “I was talkin’ to you.”

“And I was looking for cool pictures of Glory Girl being cool. One of these things is more important than the other.” Remedy looked away from the screen for a second. “And you already have ears.”

Cheshire rolled her eyes. “Well, duh, but I want predator ears.”

Remedy slowly rolled that thought around. “Predator ears?”

With her one fang in full display, Cheshire nodded. “Yeah. Like, a panther’s or somethin’.”

That was the stupidest thing Remedy had ever heard in the entirety of ever. Then again, she wasn’t a day old yet and was living with Cheshire, so chances were she would hear worse. “Okay,” she agreed. 

“Heck yeah,” Cheshire said with a pumped fist. “Now do it.”

Remedy rolled her eyes. “I can’t just do it like that, I need biomass. Your ass is too skinny to make ears.”

Cheshire narrowed her eyes as if looking for the insult. “‘Kay, so we need to get some food, yeah?”

“Biomass is anything made of living stuff, idiot.” Remedy said. She returned to looked at Glory Girl, unable to decide if the heroine looked more cool while flying or in a proper pose on ground level.

“So, you gonna help me, or what?” Cheshire asked.

“No. Go find some, I’m busy.”

Huffing, Cheshire growled something about useless fangirls and left Remedy to her searching.

She giggled a little as she tabbed into another fan site, this one with more... candid pictures of Glory Girl. Lots of them were just Vicky at school, smiling and happy. Those were the best. Others had Panacea in them, all mopey and sad looking even though she also had a cool big sis. Glory Girl was totally awesome, but maybe she wasn’t a good Big Sis like Remedy’s Big Sis was. That had to be why Panacea was sad.

Making a note to tease the other healer about how much cooler her Big Sis was the next time they met, she nodded to herself and kept looking at more pictures.

“Wow,” came a voice from just over her shoulder.

Remedy alt-tabbed, but there was only one window opened so it did nothing. She tried pressing on X, but the slow computer took forever to close the page. 

Then she had a bright idea and smacked the monitor’s power button and was rewarded with a reflection of her face on the blackened screen, red cheeks standing out like beacons.

“W-what do you want?!” she said as she turned.

Cheshire was hugging a black, overweight cat to her chest. A living cat. Crochet was also there, though she looked more concerned about the cat than anything else. “I wanted to give you this, but if you wanted to keep looking at the princess with that dopey ass expression than I won’t stop ya.”

“Glory Girl wears spats?” was all Crochet said.

“Shut up!” Remedy said. She spun the chair around to face Cheshire. “Is this the thing we’ll use to make your ears?” she asked. “We should get a bucket in case it melts.”

“Melts?” Crochet asked. “Wait, you’re going to hurt the kitty?”

“It won’t hurt at all,” Remedy dismissed. “I’ll start with the brain, so it won’t have enough of a nervous system left to feel pain.”

Crochet stared, then with a speed that Remedy didn’t expect, she snatched the cat from Cheshire’s hands and ran.

“Shit! Hey, get back here! Gimme back my ears!”

Remedy waited until they were gone, got up, and closed the door. She found a box full of papers and shoved it before the door, blocking it in place. She returned to the computer and turned the monitor back on with a smile.

She might not be a day old yet, but she was enjoying life with Big Sis and the others already.

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Two

Onee-sama was going to school. This was important, because Onee-sama had to prove how smart she was to all the plebeians and filth who were unfit to be in her presence.

But just because Onee-sama was the best did not mean that she didn’t need help sometimes. That’s why Poppu was hanging from the wires holding up the ceiling panels, arms and legs extended to lock her in place while Onee-sama placed all her things on her desk.

It was a good hiding spot. The light would blind anyone looking up, and she was small and dark and a ninja, so no one would see her. And if they did see her; well, she was a ninja.

Onee-sama was about to sit down when Poppu’s ninja eyes saw the spilled juice on her seat. Thinking fast, Poppu pulled a kunai -she had made it herself from a fork- and some wire that she ninja-borrowed from Crochet, tied the wire to the fork, then flung it out.

The fork wrapped itself around the chair in the row next to Onee-sama’s.

Poppu yanked hard, and with a scrape, the chair slid over just as Onee-sama was sitting and bumped Onee-sama’s dirty chair out of the way. Onee-sama blinked at her old chair which had tumbled aside, but she was sitting on the new, clean chair already.

Poppu wiggled her hand, undid the wire’s loop, and quickly pulled it back up. Mission accomplished! Onee-sama’s butt would not be sullied under her watch.

Now, Poppu just had to find out who had spilled juice on Onee-sama’s chair and dispose of the body. Onee-sama would be very proud, and she would pat Poppu’s head, and give her hugs, and when Poppu asked for an orange jumpsuit Onee-sama would make that ingrate Crochet make one for her.

She focused a bit more when some girls moved into the room and started walking towards her Onee-sama. They were probably going to grovel and beg for Onee-sama’s attention.

She stared with mounting anger as the two girls, one an ugly red headed gaijin and the other some clueless brunette, laughed at her Onee-sama.

Onee-sama didn’t kill the girls because Onee-sama was like a kami of patience and righteousness and would not sink so low. She wouldn’t bloody her hands, because those hands were for patting her imouto.

The class started and the girl returned to their seats. Poppu held back. If she cut their heads off now, some of the blood might land on Onee-sama and that would mean that Crochet would have to clean Onee-sama’s clothes and would earn more love.

No, Poppu would need to wait. But ninjas were good at waiting, and waiting meant thinking.

It took some time for her to realize that just killing the girls might not be... good. Onee-sama was partial to ‘good’ things. This was normal, because Onee-sama was the best thing, so she would want others, like her imouto, to have good things.

Yes, killing the girls would be ‘bad.’ Doing 'bad' things meant that Onee-sama would threaten to spank her. So Poppu needed to do something else.

One of the girls, the one with the ugly red hair, stood up after saying something to the fool of a teacher at the front. She simpered at him and he allowed her to stand and leave.

Poppu brought her hands together over her chest, like they showed in the animated documentaries at home and made the seals her favourite characters used. “Imouto ninpō: shi no kage,” she whispered.

The clone that remained behind would hide in the shadows watching Onee-sama until she turned to dust.

Poppu appeared behind the redhead just as the door clicked shut. She moved, stuck right up behind the girl so that when the girl started walking, Poppu matched the motions with only a breath of room to spare.

The girl laughed to herself as she moved deeper along the corridor, and Poppu wondered if maybe disposing of the body would be that ‘bad’ after all.

The girl walked into a filthy bathroom and Poppu had to think fast or else she would be seen in the mirror. She ran through her hand seals again and teleported to the corner of the ceiling, her clone slipping out into the corridor to go see if Onee-sama was safe.

For now, Poppu would wait for an opportune moment.

It came faster than she would have thought. The redhead used the stall next to Poppu’s hiding place. Soon, the air stank of evil gaijin poop and Poppu had to focus on her ninja ways not to gag. But it did give her an idea.

Uncoiling her ninja wire, she quickly tied it into a knot, then a loop and prepared for the toilet to flush.

It never did. The stupid redhead opened the stall door and started towards the sink without even flushing. That was something Onee-sama was very much against. Not flushing at home meant Onee-sama would be upset. This redhead was truly repulsive.

Poppu moved into the stall, and just as the redhead was moving by, she tossed her loop like a lasso and grabbed the girl by the neck. “Imouto ninpō: Kusottare,” Poppu whispered as she yanked.

The girl tripped, turning just in time so that when her head landed in the toilet, it was face first.

She screamed, squealing and flailing her arms like a fool. Poppu used the distraction and her target’s blindness to teleport behind her and pull out her tanto. With a single swipe, the toilette water-covered floor turned red and Poppu knew that her work was done.

She slid out of the bathroom and back to Onee-sama’s classroom. It took some time for someone to open the door, but when they did, she was quick to return to her hiding place near the ceiling. It was only when she was sure that Onee-sama was safe again that she allowed herself to smile.

The smile grew when the redhead burst into the room, her top all wet with poop water, her make-up running and the class suddenly smelled like a bathroom. But it was her hair, shorn short by a sharp knife, that really made her stand out.

When Poppu saw Onee-sama holding back a laugh, she knew that she had done a good thing.

***  
Horrible Google Translate translations (with a bit of help from Dai Mahou):  
Imouto ninpō: shi no kage - Little Sister Ninja Art: Shadow of Death  
Imouto ninpō: Kusottare - Little Sister Ninja Art: Shithead (It’s an insult, obviously)

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Three

She ran up the steps, panting and holding the kitty to her chest while Cheshire scrambled after her.

“Gimme!” her rudest sister screamed.

“No!” Crochet yelled back even as she hugged the kitty closer. The moment she reached the top of the stairs, she rushed towards Big Sis’ room, shoved the door open with her shoulder and ran in.

She could hear Cheshire reaching the top of the stairs, which meant she didn’t have much time. Still, if time was lacking, weapons were not. Miss Cottontail (and she was still holding back giggles at the name, since the big bunny was actually a polyester mix) jumped up and placed herself between Crochet and the door. The frumpled blankets on Big Sis’ bed took to the air like a giant shield and Crochet’s neat bundle of sewing and knitting supplies exploded into the air, needles poised like snakes ready to strike.

Cheshire slid into the room, then waited, knees bent as if she was ready to pounce and eyes all narrowed and angry. “Where’s the...” she locked onto the kitty. “Those are my ears.”

“You can’t kill the kitty,” Crochet said.

“Sure I can. It’ll be easy.” She smiled, fangs on full display and the kitty in her arms started to squirm, claws digging into Crochet’s arms and tummy and shoulders as it tried to escape. “You heard Remedy. She’s just gonna melt the kitty’s brains and then I’ll have new ears.”

Crochet let go of the kitty and it jumped over her shoulder and scampered off under Big Sis’ bed. That was good. Under Big Sis’ bed was the safest place.

She turned a victorious smile towards Cheshire. “There. Now you can’t get the kitty without messing up Bis Sis’ bed.”

Cheshire growled, and her hands balled into fists. “But I need biostuff to make me some new ears,” she said.

“Just use poop. That’s what’s between your ears already.”

Cheshire glared even harder, then her lip wobbled a bit. “B-bitch! You’re the poop head here!”

“Am not!” was Crochet’s rebuttal.

Cheshire growled, said a few things that would have had Big Sis smacking her behind the head, and stomped off. “Fine, keep the kitty.” She crossed her arms and scowled extra hard.

Crochet felt like she should have been intimidated, but she could see the wetness in Cheshire’s eyes and the wobble on her lower lip as she pouted. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothin’,” Cheshire said right away. She sniffed and placed both hands on her hips. “You takin’ my ears is what’s wrong.”

Narrowing her own eyes, Crochet allowed all her needles and the blankets to fall a little. “Don’t lie. You know how Big Sis doesn’t like that.”

“I ain’t lyin’,” she said.

“You are,” Crochet said right back. “Why’d you want cat ears anyway? Your costume has some already.”

“Because they would make me more cool. Duh.”

Crochet huffed. “More cool than who? You’re already the least cool of Big Sis’ little sisters.”

Cheshire’s hands tighten by her sides and her upper lip peeled back to show her teeth. “I-I know that already, okay!” She stomped her foot. “So I’m gonna get cool ears, and a cool tail, and then Big Sis will think that I’m the coolest and she’s going to give me more headpats instead of bein’ angry all the time.”

“That’s not how it works,” Crochet said. “Just changing your wardrobe or getting some ears won’t change everything.”

“Yes, it will!” Cheshire said. She spun around and stomped off. As soon as her slightly bigger (just three inches!) sister was out of sight, Crochet jumped forwards and closed the door, all her needles and cloth and Miss Cottontail floating back down while Big Sis’ blanket returned to her bed.

She sighed and got to her knees next to the bed. “Come out, kitty, please?” she asked. She could just barely see the glow of the kitty’s eyes in the dark under Big Sis’ bed.

After a minute of trying to sweet talk the kitty out, she reached for her back of crafting supplies, tossed aside some half finished projects and found her secret stash of snacks. She opened an oatmeal bar and placed a piece next to the bed before sitting back and leaning against the mattress while she ate the rest.

“I’m sorry about my sister, Mister Kitty,” she said. “Cheshire is just a little enthusiastic. But she’s a good sister when she’s not being a pain in the butt.”

She finished her bar, taking it apart with tiny little bites so that it would last a little longer. When she was done, she pulled out Big Sis’ costume from her bag and let it expand before her. It was really bright, just like Big Sis, with neon green cloth for the pants with purple pockets sewn all over it. The top was a bit simple, just some darker grey spandex-y material that would cling to Big Sis and show off her silhouette.

The magazines she read said that that was very important for a model to do. It was even cut open under the breasts to show off Big Sis' tummy. Boys that were Big Sis age were supposed to like that according to what Crochet read. So Big Sis would get lots of boyfriends and then there would be kissing, and then everything would fade to black and then Crochet would have lots of little nieces to play with.

The mask was just a simple cloth with holes carefully cut into it and stitched all around. The entire thing was decorated with her best attempts at stitching in flowers and rainbows and pretty patterns. She could tell how much better she got at it just by practicing from all the little mistakes she could now spot.

The cloak was still a work in progress. It needed lots of material, and all she had had on hand were some old curtains from the attic. They were a dark navy, which was nice, but not colourful enough for her Big Sis, so she had sewn ribbons into it, with tiny unicorns and fairies and flowers and other cute things.

Surrounding her Big Sis with cute things would make her so much cuter.

A soft brush against her arm had her looking down, and she beamed when she found the kitty pushing its head against her elbow. “Hi, Mister Kitty,” she said as she let the cat climb onto her lap. Its claws poked hard and it hurt a little, but then it settled and started purring and that made it okay.

“Do you like the costume I made for my Bis Sis?” she asked the kitty. It didn’t say much on the matter, just purred as she petted its head. “She’s going to be so proud when I show it to her. I can't wait!”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.

Sorry for the delay in posting. This week was... well, this week was shit. Long story short, shit’s been shitty so writing got set aside for a little bit. Update schedule might take a hit.

Keep warm; stay cool,


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Four

School had been interesting. That isn’t to say that it wasn’t awful, it was Winslow after all. It just happened to be one of the best days in the dump she’d ever had. Emma had pushed her around, sure, but someone had cut all of her hair off and left her stinking like a latrine in the middle of Gladly’s world history class. 

Then the others tried to save face by pushing Taylor around between classes, only for them to trip over tied shoelaces or find gum stuck to their hair. 

All in all it was a chaotic but fun day. A day that would have been a thousand times better were it not for the pit in her stomach.

Glory Girl and Panacea had insisted that she go to their place, that she spill all the truth. To be fair, Taylor had concerns of her own. The people trying to kidnap Dinah had hurt Crochet. They had to be reported, something had to be done about them. She just didn’t want to be the one doing the something.

The bus dropped her off at the end of the street. She adjusted her backpack over one shoulder and started the short walk home. She was still two houses away when she heard the first scream. “She’s coming, put it outside, put it outside!” 

The voice was young, girly, and most definitely her problem.

Taylor slowed her walk, hoping that if she took her time whatever fire her little sisters had started would be put out.

“She’s almost here!” said a voice that was definitely Cheshire’s. “Just let me throw it out the window.”

“If you do that you’ll hurt Mister Mittens!” cried Crochet.

“Don’t name it, you dolt!” And that, if Taylor wasn’t mistaken, was Remedy.

She came to a stop in front of her house and found that it was still standing, if in need of a little tender loving care. There was also, she noted, two girls hanging halfway out of the kitchen window while holding on to a fat tabby cat.

“I will close my eyes,” she said. “And when I open then, there won’t be a cat anywhere in sight, and my sisters will be behaving.” 

She didn’t actually close her eyes, the sight of the girls dropping the ruffled cat and scrambling back inside was too amusing to miss. Hiking her backpack up, she shook her head to clear it and walked towards the front door. 

The door opened before she had time to even start looking for her keys and four pairs of eyes were looking up at her. “Hello, Onee-sama. Welcome home,” Pop was the first to speak.

The other three turned to stare at the shortest girl among them. “Where were you all day?” Cheshire demanded.

“I was being a ninja,” Pop explained, and in a way, it almost made sense.

“Hi, girls,” Taylor said as she moved in. They parted to let her pass and closed the door behind her. “Have you been behaving?” she asked as she tossed her backpack to the side.

Crochet shook her head and started to speak, but a poke from Remedy and all that came out of her mouth was a squeaky, garbled mess. 

“Remedy, no messing with your sister’s biology,” Taylor admonished. She gave the little healer a pat on the head, then let go to cup Crochet’s head in both hands. “And could you heal Crochet? She’s covered in little scratches.”

“Yes, Big Sis!” Remedy said. She was quick to grab Crochet’s hand and Taylor watched with avid interest as all the little cuts closed up and disappeared leaving not so much as a blemish behind. “I got rid of the rabies too.”

“Rabies?!” Taylor and Crochet said at the same time.

“Oh yeah, Mister Mittens was filthy,” Remedy said.

“Do I want to know why there was a cat in the house?” she asked. Four pairs of eyes looked down. “That’s what I thought. Thanks, Remedy.” She gave the girl another affectionate ruffle, then did the same to Crochet. “I’m happy you don’t have rabies.” Turning to the other two, she made sure they were in one piece, then placed a hand on each of their heads. “And I’m glad you two didn’t murder... each... other.”

There was something wrong.

Something very, very wrong.

When last she had left, Cheshire did not have cat ears.

Slowly, Taylor pinched one of the ears between forefinger and thumb, then ran her hand up and down the furry ear. Cheshire flinched and the ear twitched out of Taylor’s grasp. “Big sis, that tickles.”

“Uh-huh,” Taylor said. She poked at the ear again, then began running her finger behind it again, just to make sure she hadn’t lost her mind. “Remedy, did you do this?” she asked.

“Cheshire insisted,” Remedy said with the speed of someone running away from blame.

“Yeah, my new ears are totally awesome! I have a tail too!” She shook her butt and Taylor saw a long black tail whipping out behind her. 

Taylor let her hand keep stroking Cheshire’s head while she stared and tried to decide what to do. 

Then Cheshire, who had been pressing into Taylor’s pets, started to purr.

Everyone paused, even Pop who was usually so quiet went stiff and didn’t so much as fidget. Every eye turned to Cheshire whose dark cheeks were turning a reddish purple as she purred helplessly. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, she turned her head towards Remedy and narrowed her eyes. 

“I’m going to kill you, nya.” Cheshire froze mid lunge, her hands darted to her throat. “What am I saying... nya?”

Remedy’s smug grin was all the proof Taylor needed to place the blame on her. “Okay, okay, that was funny Remedy. Please fix your sister now.”

“You want me to remove all the changes?” Remedy asked. She widened her eyes and looked at Taylor as if she had just been asked to throw away her favourite toy.

Taylor considered it for a moment. On the one hand, cat ears and a tail were not normal. On the other, she could see Cheshire’s ears pulling back as she glared at Remedy and her tail was whipping back and forth behind her so hard it made her butt wiggle. She could imagine Cheshire with a little bow tied next to her new ears all snuggled up in bed and purring... “No, just the ones Cheshire doesn’t like,” she said. “But in the future you ask me first, okay?”

“Yes, Big Sis.”

“Now, we all need to get ready. We have some... friends to go visit. And we’ll all be on our best behaviour, right?” she asked.

“Yes, Big Sis!” Remedy and Crochet chorused.

“Yes, Onee-sama,” Pop said.

“Nyes, Big Sis, nya,” Cheshire said.

Taylor gave it fifty-fifty odds that New Wave was going to lock her up.

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Five

Taylor hesitated at the walkway leading to the Dallon house. It was a pretty walkway, all cobbled stones with flat heads, bits of gravel between each crack and not a single weed in sight. Both sides of the path were lined with little wooden boxes filled with freshly tilled dirt and a few green shoots that would presumably turn into flowers at some point.

The house itself was very nice. Nice from where she stood still on the sidewalk with her sisters all around her. It was so nice that she decided that she was going to stand there a bit longer to admire it.

An insistent tugging of her hand had her looking down and towards Remedy who was bouncing on the spot. “I need to pee.”

Like the floodgates opening, all the others started voicing their complaints. “I need to pee too.”

“I am hungry, Onee-sama.”

“It’s a bit nippy outside, don’t you think, Big Sis?”

Taylor sighed, squeezed the two hands she was holding onto, and gave up any pretense of stalling forever. “Okay, fine.” She took a deep breath and crossed the threshold towards the house.

***

Victoria heard the knock at the door and was instantly off the couch and in the air. “Amy!” she called across the house. “Mini-you is here!” 

She heard an indistinct grumble from Amy’s room, but it was the sort that meant that Amy was coming down, eventually. That was good enough for her.

“No flying in the house,” Mark said from his La-Z-Boy. His eyes never really wandered from the TV. “Are we having guests?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Victoria said. “This girl we met the other day and her little sisters. They’re the most adorable thing ever.”

“Hrm,” he said before nodding. “Well I’ll leave you to it.” That said, he lowered the foot of the sofa and stood up. With one final nod he crossed the living room and headed towards the stairs leading to the second floor.

Victoria wanted to insist that he stay. After all, if anything could get someone out of a funk it was a few teeny tiny versions of their own kids, but the knock sounded out again and she had to answer.

“Coming!” she shouted at the door before zipping over to it. It wasn’t breaking the rules if no one saw her doing it, after all. With a quick flick, she unlocked the door and opened it wide, letting in a chilly spring breeze and taking in the sight of five girls, most of whom didn’t even reach her collar. “Hi!”

“H-hey,” Taylor said. She was a little wide-eyed in the middle of her circle of little sisters. Victoria inspected them each in turn, her smile growing so much that it started to hurt her cheeks. There was Taylor in the role of the Big Sister, in a frumpy hoodie with snacks stuffed in the pockets and mom jeans that didn’t suit her at all. There was a tiny little girl in a victorian style dress right behind her, half hidden by Taylor’s legs, a little asian girl who looked like she should have been chilly in her little yukata but was too busy fiddling with her sword to care.

And then Victoria took in the other two. Little Amy she recognized immediately. The girl was beaming up at her, nose and cheeks nice and red to show off the freckles dotted across both. Next to her was a shorter black girl in a onesie, the hood pulled back to reveal a pair of realistic cat ears sticking out from her messy hair. 

“Oh, you are all so cute,” Victoria said. She had to resist the urge to squeal and start pinching cheeks.

Taylor joined her crowd - herd, group, Victoria couldn’t decide on the right word for a gaggle of tiny capes - in blushing. “Ah, thanks,” she said. “Can, can we come in? A few of the girls need to use the facilities.”

“Right right, come on in,” Victoria said as she moved out of the way. All five of them plodded into the entranceway, wide eyes searching around and staring at everything. “The living room is just over here. And the bathroom is that door right there.” 

The group split apart, two of the girls racing towards the bathroom and almost fighting at the door before one of them phased through it and left the other waiting. Taylor didn’t even notice, or if she did, she was so used to it that she didn’t let any signs show on her face. 

Victoria moved her dad’s La-Z-Boy around so that it was facing the longest couch where Taylor was sitting down, her little ninja sister on one side and the one in the dress on the other.

“Can I sit on you?” Victoria looked down to find tiny Amy looking up at her, face incandescent and lips wobbling into a smile. “T-there’s no room around Big Sis.”

Victoria grinned like the cat that caught the canary and nodded. She patted her knees and suddenly found herself with a lapful of tiny Amy. The girl squirmed for a bit, then leaned back into Victoria’s chest and let out a long sigh. “You’re a bag of bones, aren’t you?” Victoria asked.

“T-that’s okay,” small Amy said. She was looking down at her hands, fingers twiddling together. “When I grow up, I’m going to be big, and strong, and super pretty, just like you.”

“Oh, you’re just too much,” Victoria said before squeezing the girl close with a hug. Amy chose that moment to walk into the room. She paused by the archway leading to the kitchen, took in all the girls on the couch, then narrowed her eyes at the one sitting on Victoria’s lap.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked.

“Huh?” Victoria said. “Are you afraid of her, Amy? C’mon, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s just like you, but small.”

“Her name’s Remedy,” Taylor said. “Um. That’s the name I, we, chose. Because she can heal. She’s a big fan of yours, actually. She wants to join your fan club.”

“Big Sis!” Remedy whined. “You’re not supposed to talk about fan club. It’s the first rule.”

“Ah, right, sorry,” Taylor said. The slight smile she was wearing hinted that she really wasn’t. “So you know Remedy already. This is Pop.” She patted the Asian girl next to her on the head. “And this is Crochet.” She did the same to the girl in the dress.

“Me too!” came a yell from the corridor before the fourth girl came barreling over, jumped, turned to smoke, and then rematerialized in time to crash onto Taylor’s lap. “Pat me too!” she demanded.

Victoria saw the girl roll her eyes and give the cat-eared girl a few head scritches while the other two pushed her feet away. “And this,” Taylor continued as if uninterrupted. “Is Cheshire.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Victoria said. She began running her hands through Remedy’s mess of frizzy hair, trying to straighten it out even though she knew from experience that it was in vain. 

“Yeah, wonderful,” Amy said from where she was leaning against the doorframe and staring at her smaller counterpart.

Victoria was going to have to ply her with ice cream and nagging later to see what was bugging her, but that was for later. She started to bounce her leg on the ground with restless energy, making Remedy giggle at the motion. “So, we uh, wanted to talk about a few things.”

“The kidnapping, and my sisters,” Taylor said.

“Yeah, that,” Victoria said. “I told mom, and aunt Sarah about it already. They should be back from work in, like an hour and a half. I’ll have to text them to make sure the show up here, but yeah...”

“So they can help us?” Taylor asked. She hunched in on herself a little, hands holding onto the girl in her lap with almost reverent care. “I mean, help me make sure my sisters are all okay?”

“Maybe?” Victoria said. She didn’t want to make promises she couldn’t keep. But Taylor seemed harmless. She couldn’t fit in the Empire with the diversity of her sisters, and the ABB would be the worst place for little girls and Taylor didn’t seem the sort that would allow anyone to hurt her siblings. So obviously she wasn’t a part of any gang. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t using her powers, but Victoria would have heard stories if a group of little girls went around in-costume.

That meant that Taylor was probably just minding her own business. That was good. Seeing the kids get hurt would have been hard for anyone to handle. 

What wasn’t so good was the amount of power Taylor and her sisters were accumulating. One parahuman was enough to get the PRT to stick their noses where they weren’t wanted. Five in one household would have them snooping around nonstop, and then Taylor’s peaceful days would be over. 

“What are you planning on doing with all your sisters?” Victoria asked. “You going to go out at night and do the whole hero thing?” She couldn’t decide which would be better. That Taylor insisted on being left alone or if she tried to make a mark as a hero. It would certainly help to have more heroes around, but they were all so young.

“Heck yeah!” Cheshire said with a pumped fist. “We’re going to go out and kick butt.”

“What Cheshire is trying to say,” Taylor said as she started brushing the bangs out of the girl’s face. “Is that we’ve been thinking about it. Maybe. Honestly, I’m kinda tempted to join the Wards. We’re not the most… well-off family. So four more mouths to feed, and all the clothes and stuff, plus my little sisters should really be going to school.”

“What!” Cheshire shrieked.

“No! Big Sis, I don’t want to,” Remedy was quick to add.

“I will disappear from school. Unless it is ninja school?” Pop asked.

“There are other options than the Wards you know,” Victoria said. She saw Amy’s head whip around from the corner of her eye but dutifully ignored it. “But I’ll let Aunt Sarah give you the sales pitch.”

Taylor shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll give it a listen.” She looked around the living room. “So, they won’t be here for another hour or so?” she asked. 

“That’s about right,” Victoria said. She had maybe been a bit enthusiastic with her timing. “Maybe we could go out for coffee or something?”

“I would love to have coffee with you,” Remedy said as she bent her head way back to look at Victoria. She got her cheek pinched for her efforts.

“Don’t you have homework to do?” Amy asked. “And do you really want to be with that many kids in a coffee shop?”

“Dang,” Victoria said. She didn’t pout but it was a near thing. “Then you should go with Taylor, Amy. I’ll stay here with the brats--” she paused for the brats to finish protesting that they were not brats. “--and you can bring me something. Taylor looks like she’ll need the caffeine to have any sort of conversation with mom.”

Amy hesitated for a moment. “I... guess?” 

“I won’t leave all my sisters here,” Taylor said. “But I wouldn’t say no to a walk and a bit of fresh air. Maybe Remedy can stay with you? She’s well behaved, and a fan.”

“I’m gonna stay too,” Cheshire declared. “That Glory Hog’s an apex predator, so I need to show her her place. I need to find the food chain and beat her with it.”

“You can keep Cheshire too,” Taylor decided. 

Victoria had something of a sinking feeling in her gut as Taylor got up and left the little black girl sitting across from her and grinning with a fang poking out of her mouth. “Good luck,” Amy said with the little smirk she wore whenever someone did something stupid and were about to pay for it. Victoria had the impression that she was the stupid one in the equation.

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Six

“So what’s it like? Your job as a hero, I mean,” Big Sis asked.

Crochet looked up to her Big Sis, but she wasn’t looking at her, instead she was looking towards Amy, the girl that had helped Big Sis make Remedy, and in a weird way, the one that had sorta helped Crochet survive being shot.

Crochet wasn’t sure what to think about the healer yet. She was very weird, all moody and kinda snippy with Big Sis when Big Sis had never done anything to deserve it.

Amy frowned a little, as if she wasn’t happy with the question Big Sis asked. Which was silly, because all the questions Big Sis asked were important, like the ones about if her sisters had wiped their bums right or if they had taken a shower that week.

“It’s not as fun as people make it out to be,” Amy said. She was talking about her job as a super cool hero. She looked around the road for a bit while Big Sis thought, as if she would rather look up and down the quiet suburban street than look at Big Sis. “Can I touch it?” Amy asked. She gestured at Crochet.

Big Sis frowned in the way she did when things weren’t right. “Crochet isn’t an it,” she said. Her hand tightened around Crochet’s hand, even if Crochet was only holding on to two of her fingers because Big Sis hands were so big.

Amy shrugged. “Okay, sorry.” She looked as sorry as Pop did when she apologized for threatening Cheshire yet another time.

They reached an intersection and waited for a few cars to pass. Pop, who wasn’t so patient, was already on the other side and waiting. Crochet looked up at the little panel with the red hand and waited like a good little sister until it flashed and turned into a cartoon person walking.

Big Sis made sure it was safe and started pulling Crochet across when Pop appeared before them and shoved her back.

“What-“ Big Sis began.

With a loud vroom, a big white truck roared past and thumped against Pop. She exploded across the street.

With a squeal of burnt rubber that only barely drowned out the screaming from Big Sis and Amy and Crochet, the truck wobbled back to the middle of the road and shot away with a rumble and a belch of thick black smoke.

“Oh God,” Big Sis said. She was squeezing Crochet’s hand so hard it hurt a little. That was okay, lots of squeezing meant that Big Sis loved her a lot.

Crochet was about to explain that Pop was probably alright, and that if she wasn’t Crochet could always hug her better, then she heard someone behind her. “Onee-sama, you must look both ways before crossing.”

Big Sis let go of Crochet, spun around, and gasped upon seeing Pop. She swooped down and picked her up in a big hug. “You’re okay. You are okay, right? Oh, thank you.” Big Sis said as she squished Pop.

“I will not be able to avenge Big Sis’s honour if you don’t let go, Onee-sama,” Pop said, but she wasn’t trying to pull out of the hug.

“Does that happen a lot?” Amy asked. She was breathing hard and her eyes were really wide.

“No... yes. Last time we went out we were attacked by some guys after a kid who was near us, the time before that it was Oni Lee.” Big Sis let go of Pop who pouted for just a second before she saw Crochet watching and then looked at her all smug.

Crochet narrowed her eyes at her younger sister. She would save Big Sis next time, and then she would be the one getting all the hugs.

“Maybe we should go back?” Amy asked.

“And arrive while the house is still on fire? No thanks. We’re crossing.”

Big Sis patted Pop on the head, then pointed to the other side. Then she grabbed Amy and Crochet by the hands. Crochet leaned forwards to look at Amy who looked kinda confused as Big Sis pulled her along as if she was just another little sister.

“Big Sis,” she asked. “Are you holding hands with her because she’s another little sister now? Or is she going to be your girlfriend from now on?” Amy and Big Sis let go of each other as fast as Crochet would drop the hand of someone who had cooties.

“It’s not like that,” Big Sis said.

“I’m not gay,” Amy said at the same time.

They looked at each other and flushed just like the people in the books under Big Sis’ bed. “I understand,” Crochet said with the same tone she would say ‘I don’t have the last cookie’ to her sisters.

Big Sis humphed. “Grabbing someone’s hand doesn’t mean anything like that, Crochet,” she said. “I just thought Amy was my little sister for a second.” Big Sis was turned away, so she didn’t see the baffled and indignant look Amy gave her.

“I would never tell Onee-Sama that she is wrong,” Pop said, “even if holding hands with someone that is not a little sister is very inappropriate. Onee-sama chose to take her hand, so it must be good. But if someone that is not a little sister takes Onee-sama’s hand, then she must die for the impertinence. As should the driver of that truck. Onee-sama, it is not too late for me to find them.”

“No,” Big Sis said and she patted Pop on the head. That was a very firm no, then. “And people touching my hands isn’t a reason to kill them.”

Amy was looking between Big Sis and Pop, then back again.

Big Sis noticed, cleared her throat, and began walking again. “W-why do you want to touch her?” Taylor asked.

“What?” Amy asked. She looked back down to Crochet and her eyes brightened. “Oh. When I touch someone I can see how their biology works, it allows me to-“

“I know how your power works,” Big Sis said. She flushed a little after that. “Sorry. I mean, Remedy explained already.”

“Right,” Amy said rather curtly. “So, may I?”

Big Sis shrugged one shoulder. “Sure. Just don’t give her cat ears or anything without her permission.”

Amy paused. “What?”

***

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away.

Also, also, I have a new fic coming out today! A Hazbin Hotel/Worm crossover!


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Amy didn’t know what to think of the Hebert girl at first. She looked like a wide-eyed, out-of-her-depth basket-case that had stumbled into a power that could easily become a nightmare. 

Then she started acting like... Amy frowned, an expression she was growing used to.

Taylor was with one of her little sisters, the one Amy had touched earlier. (Crochet, maybe?) She was squatting low before the girl and holding her head in place with one hand, the other pressing a napkin to her tongue. When it was nice and wet, she rubbed it over the chocolatey stains all over the girl’s cheeks. 

“Eww, Big Sis, no,” Crochet said as she tried to squirm away. “That’s indirect kissing.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “I won’t have the Dallons see my sisters all messy,” she warned before rubbing the chocolate away. 

Amy couldn’t pin exactly how Taylor was acting, not at first, then it hit her. Sometime between arriving at the cafe and ordering, as she watched Taylor coax an order out of her girls and fish out change while simultaneously holding the Asian girl back from leaving to do God-knew-what, Amy realized that Taylor was acting like many of the mothers she had seen.

Was that what Taylor was? An unfortunate young mother in over her head? Did it matter? She sipped her coffee (black) and kept watching as Taylor lost sight of her own drink in favour of convincing the ninja girl that the rude waitress did not need to be encouraged to commit seppuku just because she had been rude.

With almost militaristic discipline, Taylor took each girl’s hand and started walking back. She had taken a dozen steps before Amy realized that she (along with Taylor’s coffee) had been forgotten.

Rolling her eyes, she picked the steaming cardboard cup up and followed. She still had to decide where she stood with the whole tiny clone thing.

***

Victoria poked the ear.

It twitched out of the way, and the girl whose head it was stuck on looked up to her with an angry pout.

“They’re so real,” Victoria said.

“Of course they look real,” Remedy said. She had her arms crossed, her chest puffed out and her nose in the air. It was the least intimidating thing she had ever seen. “I made them based on a real kitty’s DNA.”

“Do you even know what DNA is?” Victoria asked. She saw the tiny Amy flushing next to her, but was too busy rubbing Cheshire’s ears to care. 

“It’s... gene stuff,” Remedy said. She waved a hand to the side, dismissing the question. “It’s not important. You just need to know that I can do it. I’ll even do it to you... if--” the flush grew a lot worse and the girl started breathing a little harder. “If you let me touch you.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Victoria said. 

The ear she was holding onto went ghostly and slid out of her grip, leaving Cheshire free to nod. “Yeah. The bimbo doesn’t deserve proper predator ears. She’s just a big wuss.” 

Victoria felt a bit of a tic under her eye, but reined it in. She was the mature one here, after all. “I haven’t said no,” she said. “But deciding to install cat ears on your head is a big choice.”

“Couldn’t your little sister remove them?” Remedy asked. “We have the same powers.”

Vicky blinked. That... if that was true, then Amy had been holding back on her. Maybe after the whole discussion with mom and Aunt Sarah, they could have a bit of a chat about future Halloween costumes.

***

Amy pulled her keys out of her pocket with a jingle. She had gotten rid of Taylor’s coffee a while ago, Taylor taking it from her when she had fallen upon the ingenious idea of having Crochet tie a ribbon between her wrist and the girl’s to free up a hand. 

The fact that Crochet pouted the entire time at the lack of contact, or that Taylor never noticed, wasn’t any of Amy’s business. 

Carol’s SUV was tucked up against the garage door and Aunt Sarah’s little roadster was parked next to the sidewalk. She had noticed both from around the block, but it was obvious that Taylor was only clueing into it now. 

“Should we have gotten them some coffee? Maybe some pastries? I hope Remedy and Cheshire are behaving... mostly Cheshire. I swear if she burnt the house down I will tan her hide, cat tail or no.” Taylor’s voice went from a worried, high-pitched babble to a low growl. It didn’t hide how nervous she was, her hands were tightening around her coffee and the Pop girl was looking ready to yank her hand out of Taylor’s.

“You’ll be fine,” Amy said. It was a platitude she was used to hearing and giving. It didn’t require much thought to say it, even if she didn’t mean it at all.

“You think? Your mom’s nice, right?” Taylor asked.

Amy gave it an honest moment’s thought. Was Carol nice? “Yeah, sure,” she said with a shrug. No point in stressing Taylor out any more. 

Taylor took a few deep breaths, then tried on a smile for size. “Thanks Amy. I... I wanted to say sorry about Remedy, and I kind of forgot. Um, but yeah, thanks. You’re kind of the ideal hero, you know?”

“Uh huh,” Amy said. She’d heard the obnoxiously saccharine praise before. “I’ll be in my room. Call me if you need proof that your sisters are human.” 

“Right, sure,” Taylor said.

Amy was the first to walk in. She left the door opened behind her, not leaving Taylor much of a choice but to follow or stand outside and let the heat seep out of the house. Carol and Sarah were in the living room, both of them sitting on chairs stolen from the kitchen. Across from them sat Remedy, hands on her lap and freckled face split by a large grin. Next to her, Cheshire was bouncing on the couch, little fang poking out and plastic cat ears perched on her head.

Amy slid past the entrance with a quick step and pretended not to hear her aunt’s call before she made her way upstairs. Taylor would figure it out, probably.

She paused when she saw the door to her room, the door that she always closed, was halfway open. Vicky had a tendency to slip in unannounced (so many close calls) but why would she go in there when Amy wasn’t around?

Cautious, and aware that all the little girls were downstairs, she moved to stand in her doorway and pushed it open with a foot.

Vicky was there. Vicky was there and bent over double to snoop into one of Amy’s clothing drawers.

Vicky was bent over double and her tail was wiggling behind her.

“What.”

Her sister’s long, fluffy blonde ears were twitching towards Amy. “Oh, hey Ames,” she said as she stood up properly. She grinned. “What do you think?”

“What?”

“I think it’s pretty hot, actually,” Vicky said. She raised both hands up, bent her wrists forward, winked at Amy and said “Nyaa?” while tilting her head to one side.

Amy’s eyes rolled back into her head.

***

Amelia has gained Insight.

A huge thank-you to my friends and patrons who allow me the time to write this kind of story and who are always there to help bounce ideas and poke fun at my shoddier work. I love you guys!

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away. You wouldn’t believe how helpful these two have been.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Taylor rubbed her knees together and clasped her hands over her stomach. Her eyes were focused somewhere on the floor between her and the two ladies and her mind was running laps around a giant panic button.

“So, we should start by introducing ourselves, I think,” one of them said. Of the two she was the nicer-looking, with a gentle smile and softer features. She was leaning forwards a little on the chair they had brought in from the kitchen. “I’m Lady Photon, or Sarah Pelham. I’m the leader of New Wave. This is my sister, Carol Dallon, or Brandish.”

“I’m a senior partner at Dallon and Wright,” Carol said. She had narrow, searching eyes that raked Taylor up and down as if looking for any signs of wrongdoing. “I usually represent and advise New Wave in any legal matters. Which is why your... case is so interesting. I can think of at least three cases that could be made against you. And that’s discounting the assault by a parahuman power that could be laid at your feet.”

“What?” Taylor squeaked.

Missus Pelham reached over and pressed a hand onto Carol’s knee. “None of that, Carol, Taylor here has been nothing but polite and helpful so far.”

“If that’s the case, then she should have reported to the PRT by now,” Carol said.

“I-I thought about it,” Taylor admitted. She wanted to regain some footing in the conversation and appease Carol. Worse, all of her little sisters were squeezed together on the couch next to hers. Four sets of eyes were looking at her expectantly, all of them sure that their Big Sis was up to the task of dealing with the two veteran heroines before her.

She swallowed.

“Thinking about it is nice,” Carol said in a tone that suggested otherwise. “But it doesn’t change much, does it?”

“Well, no, but there’s a lot to consider,” Taylor replied. “The problem is that I don’t know what they would do to my sisters and I’m afraid that they would be hurt. Then there’s the attack by Oni Lee, and that kidnapping attempt.” She reached out and arm and placed it on the shoulder of the nearest sister. Pop blinked at her innocently. “They deserve to be treated well, and I’m not sure the PRT can do that.”

The two superheroines looked at each other, then Missus Pelham scooted forwards on her chair. “I think I understand. It’s a big commitment, and while you should trust the PRT, it doesn’t mean that you have to. You just want the best for your girls, right?”

Taylor nodded, a bit of a smile coming up as the coils around her chest loosened. “Exactly. I... I love my little sisters. They’ve made my life so much better. They’re annoying sometimes, and loud and rude and a bit expensive, but they make up for it in so, so many ways.”

She heard a sniffle and turned to see four distinct reactions from her sisters. Pop was unconcerned, Cheshire had her arms crossed as was looking away from her even as a blush crossed her features and her tail whipped around behind her. Remedy was staring at her lap, lower lip trembling and fingers twiddling. And Crochet was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

“Do you really love us, Big Sis?” Crochet asked. She lowered her tissue to reveal huge brown eyes lined with unshed tears

Pop sniffed. “Of course Onee-sama loves us. We are her imouto.”

Taylor smiled at them, then at the two heroines. “I don’t know what I would do if they got hurt. That’s why I made a sister from Amy. Remedy can help keep her siblings nice and healthy.”

“That’s a deep rabbit hole,” Missus Dallon said. “Next you’ll be copying Lung or Kaiser to have a creature to keep the others just as safe.”

“What? No!” Taylor said. She shook her head and waved her arms in denial. “I wouldn’t do something like that. Crochet was hurt, she needed the help. That’s why I touched Amy. I swear that’s all.”

Misses Pelham waved her arms down in a soothing gesture. “It’s okay, Taylor, it’s okay. We aren’t accusing you of anything, right Carol?”

“Not yet.”

“What my sister means,” Missus Pelham said. “Is that... well, to put it simply, you have a lot of power now, and a lot of responsibility. It’s pretty clear from what Victoria has already told us that even if you wanted to be left alone life isn’t going to work out that way. You have a lot of power, which means you’ll be a target from people on both sides of the heroic spectrum. You should really consider what you want to do from here.”

“Are you- are you trying to recruit me?” Taylor asked. She felt a warmth in her core that fluttered at the idea. One the one hand, being a hero of any sort was... a dream. On the other, it might mean putting her sisters in danger and that was unacceptable. But if they were going to be in danger anyway, then maybe having backup wouldn’t be bad.

“We’re not recruiting you just yet,” Missus Pelham said with an easy laugh. “No, that would be a big decision. We’re merely offering you our support if you plan on doing the right thing.”

“Sarah,” Missus Dallon said. “That would make us accomplices in whatever they do.”

“And what they’re trying to do might not be a bad thing,” Misses Pelhem replied. “We could help, and we should. The PRT’s paperwork alone would drown them. They’re far too young to be tossed into the deep end of things, but you know how things are in Brockton Bay.”

Missus Dallon seemed ready to argue, but paused when Glory Girl flew into the room, eyes wide, mouth open, ears sticking out and tail ramrod straight behind her. “Amy fainted!”

Remedy was the first to move, jumping off the couch with a ‘hup’ and brushing off her robes. “I, for one, think that we had a wonderful conversation here and that we should go home now.”

And then the screaming started.

***

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away. You wouldn’t believe how helpful these two have been


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Amy blinked awake, her face smushed up against her pillow with the uncomfortable impression that she had fallen asleep in her clothes. A quick shimmy of her hips said that that was exactly the case. 

She wasn’t feeling bad, in fact she was feeling downright wonderful, as if she just had the most wonderful dream--

Amy shot out of the bed and scoured around the room with wide eyes, looking for Vicky or anyone else that might have been in the room with her. It was empty, but her drawers were still opened and, as the memories trickled in, she realised that someone had to carry her to her bed.

“Okay Amy, you just fainted,” she muttered. “Because Vicky has cat ears. And a tail.” She was hyperventilating. 

She slapped herself, a quick strike against the cheek that had her wincing as pain flashed across her face. But it was okay, it got her focused again.

“Amy fainted!” came a cry from the floor below, Vicky’s voice, filled to the brim with panic.

She flushed again, patted down her pants and straightened a little. She had been working lots of hours, maybe she could blame that and the sudden surprise?

“I’m okay!” she called out even as she stepped out of her room and started making her way downstairs. She really was fine, it had only been a sudden dizzy spell and a bit of a nap. Certainly her power wouldn’t let her get sick or anything. 

“Ames!” Vicky said before colliding with her mid-way down the stairs. 

Amy would have protested the impact as she was walking downstairs, but she was too busy being smothered in Vicky’s “Glory Girls.” 

She was pushed away and held at arm’s length as Vicky inspected her up and down with worried, slitted eyes. “You’re okay?” she asked, and her ears twitched forwards to listen to Amy’s answer.

She was, for a moment, distracted by the contact around her arms and what she could feel of Vicky’s biology. It was, to her power, as if the cat bits were grafted on, but also grown out of Vicky’s own body. An interesting, if simplistic way of giving someone extra appendages. All of it wired to their equivalent parts in the brain. The tail was like an extra toe, the ears were connected to the auditory cortex. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Amy said.

Vicky’s face shone as she smiled up at her with wet eyes. Then she started purring. “I was so worried, nya!”

Amy’s eyes rolled up into her head.

***

Vicky had to scoop low to pick up Amy as she dropped like a sack of potatoes. Her purring, which had been somewhat unexpected but not awful, stopped all at once as she held Amy up in midair, then floated around uncertain what to do.

“Bring her here. Girls, off the couch, quick,” Taylor said as she immediately took charge.

Then her mom and Aunt Sarah were up and moving too. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” her aunt said as she speed into the kitchen. Her mom just kind of stood around while Vicky rushed to the couch and gently placed Amy on it. 

“Is she okay? Should we call an ambulance?” Vicky asked.

“Remedy, can you check?” Taylor asked.

The little girl looked ready to reach out and touch Amy when she was stopped by Carol grabbing her by the shoulder. “Maybe it would be best that we get someone else’s opinion?” she said. “After all, Amy didn’t start fainting until she was in the room with your sisters.”

Vicky saw the confusion on Taylor’s face quickly morph into anger then, with some obvious effort, be hidden behind a neutral mask. “Sure, Missus Dallon,” Taylor said. “Remedy, let her be.”

“Lemme be?” Amy asked.

Vicky gasped and spun back towards her sister who was blinking away. “Amy, you’re back!” 

“I am?” Amy asked as she shook her head and tried to sit up. Vicky gently pushed her back down. If she fainted again it would be best if she was laying down already. “Sorry, I just, your ears surprised me?”

Vicky smiled at Amy. If that really was all there was to it, then that was a huge relief. She was still going to drag Amy to the hospital later, but it settled the panic in her gut to see Amy okay.

“Speaking of ears,” came her mom’s ‘what kind of bullcrap is this’ tone from just behind Victoria. She turned and looked up to find her mom, hands on hips, glaring at her ears and her tail in turn.

“Ah, I can explain?” she said.

“I certainly hope you can,” Carol said. She was using her Brandish voice, which was never a good sign. “Is this... Remedy’s work?” she asked.

Remedy, who was currently hiding behind Taylor’s legs, waved shyly at Victoria. “Um, maybe?”

“Victoria Dallon,” her mom hissed. “Don’t you know the first thing about allowing unknown parahumans to use their powers on you? It doesn’t matter if she looks like a child, she’s still dangerous.”

Victoria snorted and stood up so that she could face down her mom properly. “Come on, don’t be silly. Remedy is a clone of Amy and they have the same power. Amy could have given me these ears but she’s too... restrained to do stuff like that. It was just for fun.” She felt her tail writhing behind her.

“Um, maybe we should go?” Taylor said.

Carol glared at her, then at Victoria. “Fine then, perhaps keeping the ears untill you learn your lesson about taking stupid risks will teach you a lesson.”

“What?!” Victoria and Amy said at the same time.

“I can’t go to school with these. Do you know the kinds of things they say about me online already?” she said.

“Yes,” Remedy said, smushing her face against the back of Taylor’s leg to hide when Carol looked her way.

“I’m really thinking we should go,” Taylor said. She began herding her sisters with little shooing gestures.

“Good. Maybe being a laughingstock will help the lesson sink in,” Carol said.

“But what if Ames can’t remove them?” Victoria said. She could already imagine all the comments online. And the fanart. Rule 34 was a disgusting, disgusting thing that she knew far too well.

“Well, you should have thought of that before. And what of your unsubstantiated claims that that girl can undo everything?” Carol pointed towards Remedy, then blanked.

The living room was now short five girls, the door in the hall clicking shut with a noise so loud in the sudden silence that it might as well have been a gunshot.

“I found it!” Aunt Sarah said as she walked in with the first aid kit. She took in the room at a glance then turned to her sister. “Dammit, Carol.”

***

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away. You wouldn’t believe how helpful these two have been


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty

Taylor had a lot to think on. That’s why she was planted on her living room couch, staring at the television as reruns of some cartoon played with the volume one notch above inaudibility. Her sisters were all in the room and under quite a few threats demanding that they stay quiet for just an hour. 

It was, surprisingly, hard to think with four screaming girls in the room. 

The quiet, on the other hand, was nice. Crochet was fiddling with some needles on the couch right next to Taylor, sometimes bobbing her head to the music from commercials while the knitting needles in her hands clack-clacked. She was in the middle of making a nice fluffy scarf with bits and pieces of yarn of every colour.

The other three were sitting on the floor to one side playing an intense game of Go Fish over a few papers with chores like ‘dishes’ and ‘dusting’ written on them. Taylor wasn’t going to do all the chores when she had this many extra little sisters adding to the piles of dishes to do and all the dirty clothes to wash every day.

Pop and Cheshire were glaring at each other over their cards. “Sevens?” Cheshire hissed.

Pop’s face twisted into a smug grin. “Go fish, neko.”

Cheshire tore a card from the top of the pile and placed it in her hand with a sullen pout. Then Remedy looked at her and smiled sweetly. “Do you have any sevens, dear sister of mine?” she asked.

Taylor watched to make sure that no one got stabbed after Cheshire tossed a few cards into Remedy’s face, but they settled down soon enough. She didn’t comment when Pop swiped a few cards but made a note of it for if she ever played Uno with her.

She went back to staring at the television while her mind waffled over her choices. She knew that her dad had been buying more food, and that her spare money had all left to buy clothes and things for the girls. Soon she’d need to ask dad for help with that too. 

They just didn’t have the money to take care of four more hungry little mouths. And the Wards would cover for a good part of that. But they would insist on putting her sisters at risk, or they’d discover that her sisters were made by her and would do things to them. The nightmarish ideas were giving her pause.

She was still mulling over other options when the door opened up and her dad stepped in. “I’m home!” he called out before the door clicked shut and she heard his jacket slipping onto the hanger next to the entrance. 

***

Danny made sure his jacket was going to hold in place, a smile growing as he heard Cheshire scream “Dad!” 

He walked into the living room in time to see her dropping some cards onto the floor and jump to her feet. His eyes widened a second before he caught a ballistic Cheshire in the gut. “Oof! Hey there, little kitten,” he said.

“Gimme headpats!” she demanded.

He laughed and patted her head, then blinked down at her ears. “Wow, that’s a neat toy,” he said. She had probably gotten it for Halloween. Maybe. He couldn’t quite remember what she went as, but he could look at the pictures later. Surely he had taken some. He dismissed his worries and smiled down at his daughter, the new words he had learned coming to mind. “Hey, how would you like it if we spent some time outside yeeting a ball back and forth? You know, some daddy daughter bonding time? We’ll be super tight in no time flat.”

Cheshire blinked up at him. “Huh?”

Danny walked around her and into the middle of the room, completely ignoring the way he blocked the television as he pointed to Crochet. “Hey there, sweetie. Your dress is super fleek this evening,” he said.

“Thank... you?” Crochet said. She looked confused, but didn’t protest when he patted her on the head.

He did the same to Taylor, even if he knew that mussing her hair was a crime punishable by pouting. “Hey little owl, you watching over the kiddos?”

“Yeah dad,” she said. “They’ve been behaving. I only had to threaten them a little.” 

He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, and decided that ignorance was the better part of valour. He laughed. “That’s a mood.” 

He moved on to his other daughters and paused. One was a cute little brunette with freckles all across her cheeks and nose. The other was definitely asian. She couldn’t be annette’s daughter, although the hair matched. Maybe Annette had some parentage she had never told him about? It didn’t matter, she was his daughter, obviously. “Um, hey girls, T-B-H your old man is getting old, he can hardly remember all the girls he has! Bit of an Okay Boomer moment, huh?” His smile widened and he patted both girls on the head. “But don’t get too salty with me. You’re all my bae.” 

He stepped past them and towards the kitchen with a grin and a whistle on his lips. “I am so Gucci. All those other dads are basic,” he whispered. He wondered how his kiddos would talk about him on the playground. Would they brag that their dad was the most wokest dad ever?

***

“That, that was,” Taylor began. She looked around and found that all of her sisters, without exception, were hiding behind the couch. Slowly, after making sure she could hear her dad puttering in the kitchen, she turned to Remedy. “Could you, you know, do something about that?” she asked.

Remedy shook her head violently from side to side. “I don’t want to catch whatever sort of cooties do that to you.”

“I... don’t think it’s cooties,” Taylor said. She didn’t even sound sure to her own ear. “More like, uh, old age?”

“Does that mean Big Sis will be like that one day?” Crochet asked. She was looking at Taylor with guiless eyes. 

“I’m like, four or five years older than you... sorta,” Taylor defended. Having to defend her youth was a rather new experience. “It will take a long time and maybe a few hits on the head before I become like... that.”

“I trust you, Big Sis,” Crochet said. She patted Taylor on the knee in a way that felt all the more condescending coming from a girl half her size. “Maybe Remedy can make you young like us so that you won’t go crazy.”

Taylor shook her head, then shook it harder upon seeing the considering look Remedy was giving her. “No, no, I like my age where it is, thank you. I haven’t suffered through this many years of puberty just to do it again.”

“Oh my god, it’s beginning,” Cheshire said. “She’s complaining about when she was a kid.”

Taylor was still trying to calm down her panicked siblings when her dad’s voice called out into the living room. “Come on kids, supper’s ready and it’s hella extra.”

***

Introducing some minor AU elements here. Notably that horrible, horrible memes somehow happen years earlier on Earth Bet. Because Cauldron. 

That’s right. Contessa spreading bad memes is canon in this story because I said so. I have authorial powers and this is how I choose to abuse them.

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away. You wouldn’t believe how helpful these two have been


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-One

“Come on,” Onee-Sama said. “You can sit on my lap.” She patted her lap, one hand on each leg.

Poppu only hesitated for a moment before shuffling over and plopping herself down on Onee-Sama’s lap. This was a great honour. The greatest. It was like being asked by the emperor to sit upon his throne. Only no emperor had ever been worthy enough to sit upon Onee-Sama’s lap, because that lap was for her imouto.

She looked into the mirror before her, having to stretch her neck a little to look over all the unused beauty things left on Onee-Sama’s vanity. None of the make-up stuff looked used, which made sense. Onee-Sama did not need them to be pretty.

Poppu met Onee-Sama’s eyes and she felt her cheeks warming a little before she looked back down and away from her eldest sibling’s soft smile. 

It was a very un-ninja moment, but Onee-Sama would forgive her. She always forgave her imouto.

“You know, of all my sisters you’re the only one with hair that’s similar to mine,” Onee-Sama said. Her voice then turned a little softer. “Similar to mom’s.”

Poppu nodded once. “I will wear it with pride,” she declared. She would. Next time Crochet snipped her scissors at her, she would make her foolish nee-chan suffer for threatening her hairy heritage.

Onee-Sama laughed and it was the best laugh because it made her jiggle a little and that made Poppu bounce on her lap. “I would hope so. Do you mind if I comb it while we talk?”

“I do not mind, Onee-Sama,” Poppu said.

There were a few moment’s confusion as Onee-Sama undid the oni-mask clasp that held her hair in a ponytail, but she succeeded as she did everything else and gently placed the porcelain clasp on the vanity before taking up a bristle-y brush. 

Soon, Poppu was standing tall and stiff as Onee-Sama ran the brush along her head and pulled her long hair back in a loose cascade of inky blackness.

It was nice. 

At first it was just the slow, rhythmic swish-swish of the brush passing through, but then Onee-Sama ‘tsked’ and started combing her fingers across Poppu’s scalp. Her nails dug into Pop’s head, and at the edges she would brush her fingers out and through her hair, like a constant, rotating, scratchy head pat.

Every gentle pass tugged her eyes closed, and for just a tiny moment Poppu forgot her duties as Onee-Sama’s ninja because she was safe and cuddled and warm.

“You’ll need to shower soon, maybe use a bit more conditioner,” Onee-Sama said, breaking Poppu’s reverie with a start. She was passing her fingers through the longer locks of her hair now. “Your hair is very pretty, but it’s a bit dry.”

“But Onee-Sama, the conditioner smells,” she said. The smell might give away her position to an enemy nin who was trying to track her, and that would be unforgivable.

“You don’t like it?” Onee-Sama asked. “Well, I’m sure we can find some scentless conditioner at the pharmacy, just for you. I need a few toiletries too. I think Cheshire’s been rummaging through my things.”

Poppu did not say that it was she who had ninja-borrowed Onee-Sama’s anti-bleeding pads. After all, she was the one that would be there if Onee-Sama got a cut that needed fixing, not one of the other, slightly lesser imouto.

“Oh well, we’ll find the money, one way or another,” Onee-Sama said. She sounded a little bit off, as if something was wrong.

That could not be allowed to continue. “What is wrong, Onee-Sama?”

She saw the sad smile on Onee-Sama’s face in the mirror for just a moment before the brushing resumed and her eyes closed themselves again. This whole brushing thing was very bad if it meant she was not on-guard whenever Onee-Sama did it.

“Nothing.” More brushing followed, a few more strokes before Onee-Sama sighed so hard Poppu felt the brush of air behind her neck. “Well, not nothing. We’re a bit tight. But we’ll pull through, I’m sure. I have some ideas, but they’re not safe and, well... I just, I just don't want anyone to hurt any of you," Onee-Sama said.

Poppu, being a good ninja, saw underneath the underneath. Onee-Sama wanted her to kill anyone that could hurt her imouto.

“I will take care of it, Onee-Sama,” Poppu said.

Her Onee-Sama snorted, then giggled as she met Poppu’s confused gaze in the mirror. “You know, you might be one of my quietest little sisters, but you’re also one of the most earnest. It’s very cute.” She reached over and pinched Poppu’s cheek.

She resisted the pain and humiliation of the cheek pinch with the grit and determination of a proper nin. The warmth in her cheeks was her body fighting off the pain and nothing else.

“It is true, Onee-Sama, I will help, and protect my Onee-Sama. And the others too, if they are not bothering Onee-Sama too much. And then things will be okay,” she said. Because if all of their enemies were dead, then there was nothing to make things not okay.

“I don’t think you can protect us from poverty, Pop,” Onee-Sama said. “But I’ll take all the help I can get. Thank you.” Warm arms reached around Poppu and pulled her into Onee-Sama’s chest.

She swore then and then, that she would find poverty and slice its throat.

***

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away. You wouldn’t believe how helpful these two have been


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Two

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Taylor said. 

Remedy resisted the urge to roll her eyes just as much as she suppressed the temptation to look away and sulk. It wasn’t as if her big sister didn’t appreciate her; she was just a tiny bit afraid. 

And that was okay. Remedy was afraid of plenty of things too. But most of all, she was afraid of disappointing Taylor. That’s why she had to do what she was about to do. “It won’t be anything extreme,” she said. “In fact, no one will be able to tell at all.” She placed a Tupperware container on Taylor’s bed. 

Taylor raised an eyebrow. “So, no cat ears?” she asked in a tone that said it wasn’t a question.

Remedy thought about what her big sister would look like in cat ears and dismissed it. Taylor wasn’t the cat ear sort. She was more of a... mother hen sort. And chickens didn’t have cute ears. 

Also, if she gave Taylor the ability to lay eggs it would cause all sorts of trouble. Pop wouldn’t care, but Crochet would insist that Taylor sit on them until they hatch so that she could cuddle the tiny big-sis chicks, and Cheshire would try to eat them.

No, best to stick to the plan. 

Remedy knew that of all the little sisters she was the least deserving of headpats, that she wasn’t as good or as beloved as the others. She was going to have to work hard to change that, and the first step was winning Taylor’s love and loyalty. 

“Sit, sit,” she instructed as she patted the edge of Taylor’s bed. 

Taylor gave her a smile and sat down, then watched as Remedy climbed onto the bed and scrambled to be behind her. “Okay,” Remedy said. “Now lay down.” She pulled Taylor back and helped her lay down across the undone sheets. 

“Do I really need to be laying down?” Taylor asked as she looked up at Remedy. 

Remedy nodded seriously. “Oh yeah. I’m going to make you better, and that means your reflexes and sense of balance. I don’t want you tripping and knocking your head on a table or something. That would undo all my hard work.”

Taylor snorted. “You’re not going to mess with my brain, right?” she asked.

Remedy had to think fast. There were ways of doing what she wanted without touching the brain, it just made things so much less fun. “Of course not. What do you take me for, an idiot?”

Taylor raised her arms. “I would never say that,” she said.

She felt a smile tugging at her lips. “But you’d think it?” she asked as she looked down at Taylor.

Taylor grinned back. “Well, I might think that when Cheshire acts like herself sometimes,” she admitted. “But don’t go telling her that.”

Remedy was totally going to rub it in Cheshire’s face later. “I would never,” she said. “Now, close your eyes, big sis, and let doctor Remedy fix you right up!”

Taylor closed her eyes, the corners of her lips still quirked in a small smile. Remedy sat cross legged next to her and placed a hand on her forearm. 

Her power spread out through Taylor’s body, riding the nerves, the streams of blood and bones until Remedy could see, in her mind’s eye, the entirety of Taylor’s body down to the most minute of details. There were a lot of things to fix. 

Small things, some of them inconsequential and that would go unnoticed by anyone else. Little abrasions just under the surface of the skin that would, in twenty or thirty years, turn into slight wrinkles. There were places where the muscles were a little weak, where the circulation of blood was just a tiny bit off. Nerves that were connected properly, but not optimally.

Then the bigger problems, a few spots in the lungs that weren’t quite up to snuff, some scarring in the stomach probably caused by Taylor’s less than ideal diet, the paunchy belly wrapped around Taylor’s midsection, love handles and all. Her musculature was under developed and she had a bit of a malformation in the eyes. 

With a swipe of her power, Remedy fixed it all. 

Taylor gasped and almost stood up, but Remedy pushed her back down. “I’m not done yet,” she said. “All I did was fix all the little bits that weren’t working right.”

She had only just started. Now was the fun part. 

Reaching over, she pulled the plastic container she had brought with her over and popped the lid open. Inside were all sorts of goodies. A few rotten bananas, some onions, a big chunk of cheese and other leftovers she had found at the back of the fridge. Maybe a pound or two’s worth. 

Scrunching up her nose at the squeamish feeling, she dipped her fingers into the mix, then wrapped a hand around Taylor’s forearm again. This was tricky. Her power didn’t like working with things that weren’t alive, but technically bacteria and fruit were alive. Sorta. 

The bones were the first to be improved. A few realignments of their structure on the microscopic level, some thickening and improving and hardening in key places. Correcting the dumpster fire that was the human spine. She had heard about this stuff called carbon fiber that was supposed to be really neat. She didn’t have any of that, but she did have cheese, and cheese was made of milk, which had carbon in it. The TV told her so.

Then she went to the muscles. It wasn’t hard to bulk those out just a little bit then improve their reaction time and strength. She had heard that muscles were either meant to move fast or lift a lot, but that was silly, they could totally do both if one was willing to tinker with them just a bit. 

Blood vessels, the heart, lungs, stomach and liver and kidneys. All cleaned out and improved. She couldn’t make Taylor pee fire yet; that would require a bit of experimentation. However, she was more than willing to lay out the groundwork.

A few more tweaks to all of Taylor’s senses, then the next step; making Taylor prettier so that Taylor would love her more. First fixing her hair, then her skin, then improving her bust until she was all out of biomass.

“I’m done!” she announced.

Taylor opened her eyes and blinked a few times.

Giggling, Remedy reached over and took her glasses off. “Taa-daa!” She grabbed Taylor’s hand and helped her to her feet before jumping off the bed to drag her to the mirror over her vanity. “What do you think?” She preened, head held high so that Taylor would know where to apply the many headpats she had earned.

Taylor stared at her reflection. A reflection that was a near perfect clone of one Victoria Dallon. “What.” She moved a little, as if to make sure it was really her. “What?”

“I made you pretty!”

Taylor ran her hands over her new and improved body, then touched her cheeks. She looked longing, then sad for a moment. “Remedy, this is very nice, but, um, it’s not me,” she said.

Remedy had to resist the urge to pout. She had worked hard for a whole three minutes to make Taylor this pretty. “Fine, I’ll change you back,” she said.

She felt a warm hand on her head and her pout faded even as she looked up. Taylor was smiling at her with Glory Girl’s face. It was... wrong. “I’m sorry, but I still want to be me, even if I’m not as pretty as Glory Girl or any other girl. Um, not that I would mind being a bit prettier. Just a little. Like, not enough for it to be noticeable at school, but still... nevermind.”

Remedy sighed. “My work is never done, is it? Come on, lie down again and I’ll fix you right up,” she said. So apparently Project Glory-fication was off the table. That was alright. Taylor said she wasn’t opposed to being prettier, so Remedy would just have to be sneaky. Maybe a few little changes at a time so that her other sisters wouldn’t twig onto what she was doing.

Yes, Remedy already had a plan laid out in her head. It might take a while, but she would prove that she was a good little sister and thus a good person too.

***

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away. You wouldn’t believe how helpful these two have been


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Three

“This one!” Cheshire demanded as she pointed at the storefront. It was a big, tall building with lots of glass on the front, the view within only slightly marred by vertical bars that ran from the floor to the ceiling. 

She looked up and glared at the big sign hanging above the door, silently moving her lips as she sounded out the words in the name. Jason's Sports Emporium. She didn’t know what that last word meant, but there was a big hockey mask behind it, and she could see all sorts of cool camping equipment and bikes and gear behind the windows. 

“Are you sure?” Big Sis asked. She had her hands in her hoodie pockets and was looking up at the store too. She had probably never been in there, Cheshire figured. Her Big Sis was all sorts of things, but sporty wasn’t one of them.

Tail wiggling under her skirt, Cheshire nodded.

She didn’t like the skirt. It was airy, and wavy, and it wasn’t as warm as proper pants, but Big Sis had said it was either that or she could go pantless. And then when Cheshire said she’d rather go pantless, Big Sis had put her foot down and said she had to wear the stupid skirt because she wasn’t going to cut holes in any more pants and her onesie wasn’t good enough to be worn outside.

Big Sis even forced her into one of those potato sack hoodies to cover her cool predator ears. Which was silly. How were people supposed to know that she was an alpha predator and that they had to hide if she didn’t show off her cool new bits? “Yeah, I’m sure,” she said. “This is where I wanna shop.”

“You know, it’s not actually shopping if you don’t have the money to buy anything,” Big Sis said. She still reached down, grabbed Cheshire’s hand and started towards the shop.

Cheshire allowed it, like a kitty allowing itself to be petted because pets were a sort of way of telling someone that you liked them. Big Sis holding her hand was like that, it meant that Big Sis liked her. Which was obvious. She was way too cool not to be liked.

The bell by the door jingled as they entered and a boy behind the counter looked up at them before he returned to stacking boxes behind a glass cabinet. Cheshire ignored him except to take note that he was a boy and that she might have to fight him if he tried any of that flirting stuff Crochet was always on about. 

The store was way bigger than she had thought, with a wall covered in small boat-things in the back and an area filled with tents in one corner. There were racks of guns chained in place and counters where they were selling bullets and things. 

“Awesome,” Cheshire said. She felt her fang poking at her lower lip and only smiled harder. “C’mon!” she said before dragging Big Sis along towards the back. “Let’s look at the guns.”

“Um,” Big Sis said. Cheshire glanced up to see that she looked the same way she did when Pop suggested killing someone again. “I can’t stop you from looking at them, but I would really, really rather you not have a gun. For a multitude of reasons.”

“Y’er no fun,” Cheshire said, but her heart wasn’t in it. Guns weren’t a real predator’s weapon. They were too noisy and stank and they were just unfair. So she steered Big Sis towards the knives section instead. 

There were all sorts of them, but the type of knife didn’t matter as much as how pointy and cool it looked. Her Big Sis leaned in to squint at the little price tags next to the prettier ones and winced. “Pricey.”

“Well, yeah,” Cheshire said. “But you can stab all sorts of folks with those. They’re like claws, but less cool.”

“Let’s try to keep the stabbing of people at a minimum,” Big Sis said. “It’ll land us all in hot water and I’d rather not spend the rest -- or any part -- of my life in prison.”

“Bah, you’re no fun, Big Sis. I bet you want to work some boring job, like, one of those tax people. That ain’t what I’m gonna do in the future.”

Big Sis looked at her. “And what do you plan on doing?”

“I’m gonna be a big predator, an alpha cat, like a cougar.”

Big Sis stared, then her lips twitched, and then she started laughing. 

“The fuck you laughing at?” she demanded, hands on her hips and glare fixed up at her stupid Big Sis. 

Her Big Sis laughed even harder but shook her head the whole time. “No, no, it’s okay. You can be a cougar if you...” she stopped and giggled some more.

“The fuck?” Cheshire said. “Stop being so stupid and explain why that was funny.”

“No, no, I’ll... I’ll explain it later,” Big Sis said.

Cheshire glared even harder. That was the same lie she had told them about explaining where babies came from and what puberty was.

“Come on, we should go,” Big Sis said. She wiped the corners of her eyes, then patted Cheshire on the head between her ears. “But thanks for making me laugh.”

Cheshire perked up. “Does that mean you’ll buy me a knife?” she asked.

“God no,” Big Sis said right away. 

Huffing, Cheshire tried to slip her hands into her pockets, but she was wearing that sissy skirt, so she just crossed her arms instead and stomped off.

She made it three steps before something caught her eye.

It was gorgeous. 

Nearly as tall as she was, with sleek curves that reminded her of the whippy tail of a tiger. There was a sharp bit sticking out of the top, reflecting the lights from the ceiling with a glint of chrome. The handle was made of that cool checkered black and white stuff that race cars were made out of. 

“I want it,” she said.

Taylor stepped up next to her and looked into the glass display case protecting the piece of art. “That’s an impressive looking crossbow,” she admitted. “But there’s no way in hell that we’re getting it.”

“What? Why not?” she asked. “It ain’t a gun.” And it was pretty and she wanted it, she didn’t say.

“Yeah, no. It’s bigger than you are,” she said. “And that price tag has about two numbers too many for me to be able of even thinking of affording it.”

Cheshire pouted. “Yeah, but I could use it to pin bad guys and then take their shi-- their money to pay it off, right?”

“You’re set on being a hero now?” Big Sis asked. Then her lips twitched. “I thought you wanted to be a cougar.”

“I can be both,” she said.

Big Sis snorted. “Sure, why not.” She looked around, then pointed off to the side. “How about you start with something like that, and work your way up?”

Cheshire turned to stare. There was a rack with little boxes on it, each one transparent on one side to show off the metal and rubber tubes within. She squinted at the label and sounded out the two syllable word. “Blowgun? Like, to spit darts at people?”

Big Sis nodded. “Exactly. Isn’t that all... stealthy and predator like, and also under twenty dollars?”

“I dunno, is blowing stuff cougar-like?” she asked, then glared extra hard when Big Sis started laughing again. “Fine! I’ll take it, we’ll see if y’er still laughin’ when I’m blowin’ bad guys left and right.”

***

Also, shout-out to Daimahou and BlueNine. They did word magic on there to make the mistakes go away. You wouldn’t believe how helpful these two have been


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Four

Crochet wanted to buzz with excitement like a fly caught in a cup, but with a huge effort of will she tamped down on all of those emotions and instead made sure to at least look like the respectable little sister Big Sis expected her to be. 

One hand tucked in Big Sis’ own, the other pressed up against her tummy to help her stand tall and proud as she walked, her shoes click-clacking on the sidewalk with every step and her extra big purse swaying by her side. This was exciting. Crochet was going to meet someone very, very important. Not only that, but it meant spending a few hours alone with her Big Sis, not a single other sister in sight.

The shop they stopped before was small, more of a hole in the wall than a proper storefront, and it looked like it has been recently patched up. The windows were clean, but surrounded by old frames that had been painted over. The sidewalk was cracked all around the entrance, but someone had filled in the cracks with asphalt.

‘Parian’s Boutique’ read a sign hanging above the doorway. It looked like a place that was trying very hard to look presentable and fix itself up. Crochet immediately approved. 

Behind the windows she could see pretty, colourful dresses on a few mannequins and giant teddy bears and plush tigers sitting around on stands. She was practically buzzing with excitement to rush in and see everything, but she wasn’t Cheshire, so she looked up to Big Sis and gave her a demure smile. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same,” Big Sis said. It was clear that Big Sis was as nervous as Crochet was excited.

Crochet gave Big Sis’ hand a squeeze. “C’mon,” she said. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

The doorbell jungled as they walked in and were immediately greeted by a pleasant voice. “Hello, and welcome to Parian’s. I’ll be with you shortly!” 

Crochet blinked a few times to adjust to the slightly brighter room, then let go of her Big Sis’ hand so that she could do a proper twirl.

Old, well worn wooden floors, racks on every wall with spaces left open to display completed dresses and plenty of teddy bears, lions, tigers, octopi and other fluffy animals staring at her with a thousand button eyes.

She grinned at the room, her power stretching out to pet every plush and rub against all the pretty dresses. 

At the bad of the room, standing next to a counter and talking to an older woman with a big plastic bag by her side, was Parian herself.

The doll woman was in Crochet’s customary pose, hands folded above her tummy, head tilted down just-so and dress pooling around her legs. She said something to her client, then bowed at the waist when the lady said goodbye.

Big Sis and Crochet moved aside to let the lady pass, then focused back on the cape. “How may I help you?” Parian asked.

Crochet stifled the butterflies and took a deep breath before bowing the same way Parian had just done. “Hello Miss Parian. My name is Crochet. This is my Bis Sis.” She paused to give Big Sis time to wave. “I was hoping I could talk to you?”

She said mean words to herself in her head. That wasn’t supposed to be a question.

“Of course,” Parian said, and Crochet could hear the laughter in her voice. 

She would just have to make do. “I was hoping that we could compare notes on dressmaking and fashion and other such things.”

“I see,” Parian said. “Are you planning on being a little dressmaker?” she asked.

Crochet wanted to deny it. She wanted to grow up to be a big dressmaker, one that made the prettiest dresses for her Big Sis, and if they actually behaved, her other sisters too. But looking at Parian she knew that she would never be tall, or big. “Something like that, yes,” she agreed. “Would you like a sample of my work?” 

Parian brought a hand up to her doll mask’s mouth. “Sure, as long as I don’t have any other clients I can give you a few minutes of my time,” she said before turning to her Big Sis. “Ah, did you want a seat while we... talked shop, as it were?”

“Ah,” Big Sis began, then froze up.

Crochet grabbed her hand and gave it another squeeze. Hand squeezes were the body’s way of telling someone that you were there for them. “My Big Sis is a little shy,” she explained.

Big Sis coughed, a bit of red climbing up her neck. “That’s not it. Actually, I was here to apologise for something,” she began. “But I don’t want to ruin Crochet’s big moment. She’s a huge fan.”

Crochet didn’t huff, not in front of Miss Parian. She wasn’t a huge anything. 

“Well then,” Miss Parian said. “How about you show me what you’ve made, and we can compare notes?”

Crochet nodded and flipped the top flap of her purse open. With a tiny bit of concentration, she had her power seep into the dresses within, but not the costume at the bottom. It wasn’t time to reveal that to Big Sis yet. 

Her homemade dresses floated out and came to hovering stop next to each other, all displayed in a neat row for Parian to see. She was really proud of the one she had made from a shower curtain Pop had found in the basement. The 70’s neon psychedelic vibe went well with the creme sash around its hip and the black and white highlights along the fringe. 

“What?” Parian said as she took a step back. She looked between Crochet, the dress, then Taylor and back again. “You’re capes?”

“No, they’re dresses,” Crochet said. She gestured towards the dress for emphasis.

Big Sis pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can explain.”

***

A huge thank-you to my Patreons for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Five

“So,” the tall girl said. She wasn’t looking directly at Sabah, instead focusing somewhere around her feet. 

She should have been nervous. A strange pair of capes waltzing into her store out of the blue was always a good reason to panic. But then, most capes didn’t seem this shy, or nervous, and Sabah had certainly never seen a cape as adorable as the little girl looking up to her big sister with wide, guileless eyes.

“Okay, I can explain,” the girl said again. “Right. My name is Taylor, like Crochet said, and I’m sorta-kinda a parahuman,” she admitted.

Parian nodded slowly. She didn’t want to spook the girl, not if she could do something to her or her shop. 

“My power lets me make - this part’s hard to believe - little sister versions of other capes.” Taylor fiddled with her fingers, then gestured between Parian and Crochet. “And, yeah. I kinda used it on you, mostly not on purpose. And I wanted to say sorry.”

Sabah had two and two and when she put them together the answer was ‘little Sabah clone.’ She stared at the girl standing in front of her, the girl using her power to hold up an awful, awful dress in the air behind her. “Okay,” she said.

“Okay?” Taylor asked hopefully. 

Crochet started to smile.

“No, not okay,” Sabah bit back. She didn’t know how she was supposed to handle this. “Can you turn your power off?” she asked Taylor.

“And kill Crochet?” Taylor asked right back, her horror clear as day.

Crochet’s eyes widened and she took a small step to the side, as if to hide behind Taylor. “No, no, nevermind,” Parian said. 

Crochet looked up at her... progenitor? Older sister? Master? Then moved towards Parian again. “I’m sorry if we’re making you uncomfortable, Miss Parian,” she said. “Big Sis is great, but she’s not so good at talking. I really did just want to compare notes about fashion, and, and if you don’t want to be my mommy, that’s okay.”

Sabah decided not to open that particular jar of worms. Instead she took a deep breath and turned towards Taylor. “When you... copied me, was it about a week and a half ago?” she asked. There was a vague memory of meeting Taylor about that long ago floating around, but it was after an event and she had met plenty of normal looking folk just like Taylor.

“Yeah, about then,” Taylor agreed.

“Okay,” Sabah said. “Then that’s about the same time as my powers went weird.”

“Your powers did what?” Taylor asked.

“They were less responsive, a bit slower. I hardly noticed. I thought it was a head cold at first. It’s passed, they’re back to normal now,” she said, adding the last to reassure the panicking girl.

“But you’re okay now, right?” Crochet asked. “Big Sis didn’t hurt you?”

“I suppose she didn’t,” she admitted.

Crochet nodded quite seriously, the expression ill suited to such a chubby-cheeked little face. “That’s good. If Big Sis had hurt you while you two were making me, then that would be an awful crime.” She then gestured at her dress. “So can you to make up so that we can talk about fashion?”

Sabah wanted to have a seat, not talk about fashion, but then Crochet looked at her, eyes pleading for attention and the most awful piece of clothing floating over her shoulder. Her lower lip trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears and she started blinking rapidly to keep them in place even as she joined her hands together in pleading.

She folded.

***

“Wow, that’s low, even for you,” Lisa said. 

Telling Coil off over the phone like that was probably not a good idea. In fact, it was downright rude. But he was an entire bagful of dicks and deserved every ounce of rudeness she could shovel onto his plate. 

She figured she was getting bonus karma points for telling him off while he was asking her oh so nicely to kidnap someone’s munchkins.

“Now, now, Sarah,” Coil’s voice oozed over the line. “I hardly believe this is beyond the Undersiders’ abilities. Or did I perhaps misjudge the competence of your team?”

She huffed. “I’m not saying we can’t do it,” she said. “I’m saying that it’s pretty low. Kidnapping a politician or some businessman probably wouldn’t be an issue, but this is a kid you’re talking about. Grue at the very least will protest on principle alone.”

She felt bad about throwing Brian under the bus. Sorta bad. Mildly discomforted, really. But he was an easy excuse to get out of doing the job. Not that it sounded hard. She just didn’t want to do anything Coil asked on principle. 

“Then I’ll leave it to you to persuade your team leader. I want those children, my little Tattletale, and I want them sooner rather than later.”

“Do you even hear yourself talking? Those stranger danger videos aren’t guidelines on how to act, you know. Kind of the opposite.”

“Joke all you will. You’ll get the job done if you know what’s good for you. The information has been sent already. You should have received it by now.” The line went dead before she could get another jab in. 

She sighed and started thumbing through her phone. 

Finding the email and opening it, she found herself looking at three profiles, each one for another young woman. Taylor Hebert, the eldest daughter of the Hebert household, who in every picture looked a little worse for wear as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. 

Her power hinted that she was the family’s mother figure as well as the older sibling and it was a lot of work for her. Coil wasn’t sure if she had powers or not, and there wasn’t enough there for Lisa to guess either way. 

The other two profiles weren’t as large. Cheshire Hebert, a short, black skinned girl that wore a mischievous smile in every picture, and Crochet Hebert, who had middle eastern features and held herself up as if wanting to seem taller.

Lisa glared at the images. They were clearly all sisters. Her power and mind told her as much, but they were also all of different ethnicities. Different mothers, maybe? Different fathers? It was obvious that they were siblings, but something was off about it.

She dismissed it after a moment. The two younger girls were probably little more than a year apart. Easy enough for the Undersiders to grab. The problem came from their powers. 

Well, she still had some time to work it out, and to find a way to convince Brian to act.

***

A huge thank-you to my Patreons (and BlueNine, who despite not being a Patreon is still pretty chill) for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Six

Cheshire realized it was a mistake two minutes into the ride. “So, where’s the candy?” she asked as she hugged Mister Mittens closer. 

The cat didn’t seem to mind her handling him anymore, not ever since she had become a kitty-predator too. He just let himself be squished to her tummy, legs splayed out and face set in a kitty pout that was aimed at the boy sitting across from her.

There were two people in the van, a tall blonde girl at the front who was driving, and the boy who had offered her some candy to get in. His face split in a big grin. “What candy?” he asked.

Cheshire blinked, ears twitching forward to listen to him properly. “What’d ya mean, what candy?” she asked. “Ya told me that if I got in the van, you’d gimme some.”

“Yeah, but did I say I’d give it to you right away?” he asked.

She considered that for a moment. He hadn’t said that, but it was kind of said-without-being-said. “That’s shit. You told me you’d gimme the candy, so deliver, asshole.”

“Câlisse, you’ve got a mouth on you, huh?” he asked. 

“Yeah, everyone has a mouth, dumbass.” She smiled to show off her fangs. “See, I’ve got a predator mouth.”

“Uh,” the boy said. He leaned back in his chair to talk to the girl driving. “Tats, how do you handle children?”

She snorted. “The hell would I know? Just keep her calm, idiot.”

“Idiot?” he repeated. “I’m sorry, is this shit-on-Regent day?”

“It will be if you don’t give me your candy,” Cheshire said. She was growing real tired of the two and their stupid candy-less white van. Plus it stank of dogs. Looking around and pushing herself up to see what was behind her seat, she couldn’t find any candy. Just boxes with rope and a bunch of handcuffs and stuff. 

“Alright, so how about I give you candy when we get to the loft?” Regent asked, gesturing with both hands as if presenting her with a deal.

“That’s stupid. You didn’t say we had to go anywhere to get the candy,” she pointed out. Now she was getting real irritated. Plus the seat was squishing her tail under her butt and it was really uncomfortable. 

“Hey Tats,” Regent asked.

“What?” The driver snapped. 

“Do we have any candy at the loft?”

Cheshire couldn’t believe her predator ears. “Are you fuckin’ serious?” she asked. “You know, I’m startin’ to think this is some sort of scam.”

“What made you think that?” Regent asked. 

“Cause you two are real suspicious,” she said. Mister Mittens started to wiggle in her hands, so she let him go. He moved over to the next seat over and flopped down for a cat nap.

“Are we really?” Regent asked. “Hey Tats, am I suspicious?”

“Regent, I swear to god,” the girl said.

“You know, if this is one of those kidnapping things, I’m going to blow you,” Cheshire said. She could feel the comforting weight of her dart gun pressed up against her leg. 

The van swerved as the girl in the front’s head snapped around. “What?!” she asked.

“She said-” Regent began.

“I heard what she said! She... oh, for the love of god, she’s got a blow dart.” The driver snapped back around and swerved back into their lane. 

“That’s right,” Cheshire confirmed. She wiggled around to try and get it out of her pocket, but it was stuck because of her belt. Grumbling, she made it phase out of her pants and presented it to Regent. “See. I’m armed and dangerous as hell.”

Regent snorted and reached to the side of his chair. He pulled out a big black gun. “So am I,” he said.

She shrugged. “That’s just a gun,” she said. “I ain’t impressed,” she lied. It looked a whole lot cooler than her blow gun, but Big Sis had gotten the blow gun for her, so it was better.

Regent blinked a few times, then turned to the driver again. “Tats, she said my gun wasn’t impressive. I’m feeling emasculated.”

“What’s that word mean?” Cheshire asked over the low grumbles of the girl in front.

“It means you’re making me feel girly,” Regent answered.

She frowned. There wasn’t anything wrong about feeling girly. “Hey, Tits, is that what that really means?” she asked the driver.

The girl’s hands went white around the wheel and she hunched forwards when Regent started to laugh. “Yeah, Tits, explain what the word means!” 

“It means,” Tits said through gritted teeth. “That he doesn’t feel good in his own skin. Something I’m sure will only get worse when I start beating the shit out of him.”

Cheshire nodded slow-like. She understood now. Reaching out, she patted Regent on the knee. “It’s okay, Mister Regent. I didn’t feel good in my own skin too for a bit. But then Remedy, that’s my sister who’s a bio tinker thing, she made me more of a predator, and now I’m all better!”

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about this,” Regent said.

“Concerned,” Tits suggested. 

Cheshire shrugged. “Right, well you two don’t got any candy, so I’m gonna fuck off, alright?” 

“Uh, no?” Regent said. 

“Don’t try to stop me,” she said, raising her blow gun. “Or I’ll blow you for real.” Threat delivered, she pushed off the floor at the same time as she phased herself. The van moved on under her and left her floating to the ground. Then, the moment she touched down, she phased back and jumped to the side.

A car honked at her, but she ignored it as she watched the van suddenly moving faster. Huffing, she looked around and tried to figure out how to get home.

Then she froze before snapping around to look at where the van was speeding down halfway across the block.

“Oh shit,” she said. “I forgot Mister Mittens.”

***

Next time! 

Operation Mitten Rescue! 

A huge thank-you to my Patreons (and BlueNine, who despite not being a Patreon is still pretty chill) for helping bounce ideas on the Discord and for encouraging me to post this monstrosity!


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“So, how are we gonna do this?” The one with the cat-ears asked.

“I could goop them?” the one in the white robes said. She was tapping a finger against her chin and eyeing them as if they were sides of beef left to hang.

The one that looked like a ninja just ran her thumb along the length of her knife.

Rachel wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. First Lisa and Regent barged in complaining about a cat going wild, then they took one of her doggy carry cases and brought in a hissing, screaming cat that had all of her dogs barking and growling. She wanted it out of her house right away, and expected Brian to kick it out soon enough. 

Instead the four of them were arguing, screaming over the dog’s barking when a little girl appeared in the middle of the living room and punched Brian out. Then another one moved through the wall and a third walked in from the door while they were still panicking.

That’s how the entire team ended up tied on the loft floor, handcuffs in place and tape stretched out between all of them in great big circles. 

Bitch glared at the girls but kept her mouth shut. It was the best thing to do. The one in the robes was patting Angelica on the head and rubbing Brutus behind the ear, both dogs lapping up the attention like happy little traitors.

“Tattletale,” Brian said, low enough that only the ninja girl turned towards them. “If that biotinker melts me, I’m going to fucking haunt you.”

“Seconded,” Regent said. “I’m gonna go full Stay Puft Marshmallow Man on you.”

Rachel felt Lisa move and Alec groaned as an elbow hit him in the kidneys. “Asshole, you were there with me the entire time,” she said.

“I’m haunting you too, Regent,” Brian said. 

The three girls pulled out of their huddle, the one with the cat ears nodding seriously before she stepped up to them with the same kind of swagger Rachel saw in tomcats all the time, tail flicks and all. “Okay, villains,” she said as she placed her hands on her hips and thrust out her chest. “Time for y’er recoining.” 

“Reckoning, moron,” the one in robes said.

“Fuck off, Remedy! Stop ruining my triplelogue!” the cat-girl said.

“What’s a triplelogue?” Alec asked.

The girl rolled her eyes. “It’s like a monologue, but there’s three of us. Obviously.”

“Oh my god, we’re going to die,” Brian whispered. 

“Shut up black guy,” the cat-girl said. She glared at Brian. The two of them really didn’t get along, Rachel noticed. 

“That’s racist,” Alec said.

“You’re racist,” she spat back.

“For the love of Onee-sama,” the ninja-girl said. “Let me do the talking, baka neko.” She moved closer to them, then crouched to be at their height, a hand on the handle of her knife and her eyes narrowed. “We have decided not to kill you because that would annoy our Onee-sama. Be grateful that Onee-sama does not want the hands of her imouto dirtied with your filthy gaijin blood.”

“So you’re not gonna kill us?” Alec asked. He didn’t seem all that bothered by the idea.

Ninja girl shook her head.

“We still haven’t decided whether or not I should biotinker your brains to make you better people,” Remedy said. She wiggled her fingers in their direction and Lisa pulled way back. 

“Fuck no,” Lisa said. “Don’t touch me!.”

“Lisa, calm down,” Brian ordered.

“Shut up Brian, you don’t know what I know. She’s a waking nightmare.”

“Hey,” Remedy said, her brows pulling together like an angry pit bull. “I didn’t do anything mean to no one.” 

“Well,” cat-girl started.

“Shut up Cheshire,” Remedy shot back. “If you don’t stop talking shit I’m going to give you cancer.”

“What kind?” Alec asked.

The girl blinked. “All of them?”

“You did not,” a cold, dangerous voice snapped across the room. “Just threaten to give your sister cancer.”

All three girls flinched, looking like dogs that had just peed on the mattress. They turned at the same time as all of the Undersiders craned their necks to see who was talking.

A tall dark-haired girl stood in the doorway with another little girl by her side. She looked plain, with big glasses and a sweater over jeans. Still, her arms were crossed and her mouth was set in a thin line. Even Rachel could tell that she was pissed off. 

“I come back home to find that not only have three of my sisters disappeared, they left to run after a cat that was accidentally kidnapped by, and I quote, ‘big doo-doo head supervillains.’ Do you have any idea how much trouble finding this place was? I should be at home doing homework right now. And all three of you left the house without doing your chores.”

“Wow, they didn’t do their chores. How awful,” Alec said.

“Alec, shut up,” Lisa hissed. She was looking at the scary girl as if she was Lung himself. 

“At least Crochet didn’t participate in... whatever this is,” she said before placing a hand on the head of the girl next to her and giving it a fond pat. The girl smiled at her sisters, full of smug satisfaction.

“She tattled on us!” Cheshire screamed.

“She isn’t the one that’s in trouble here.” 

“Hey, mom jeans, these brats yours?” Alec asked. 

This time it was Rachel who hit him. She could see the way all the girls bowed to her. The new girl was the alpha of her pack, and her pack was stronger than Rachel’s. 

“They are,” the girl said with a sigh. “Did you guys really kidnap our cat?” she asked.

Rachel heard Lisa clearing her throat. “Look, I can explain everything if you just give me a minute to talk. It’s all one big misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” the girl said. “And the supervillain costumes and guns just left lying around are a misunderstanding too, right?” she asked.

Lisa laughed. “Just one big misunderstanding.”

The girl moved over to them and leaned forwards until she was right in front of Lisa, eyes level with her and glare in place. Lisa shrank away, and if she was a dog her tail would be between her legs. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if I find out that any of you tried to hurt my sisters I will make you regret it, got it?” she said before poking Lisa in the chest.

Lisa’s head bobbed up and down. “Yup, got it!” 

The girl’s face twisted and she stared at Lisa for a long time before standing back up. “Alright girls, let’s go,” she said.

“Aww, but sis, we were about to beat them up,” Cheshire said.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she said as she started towards the door. “Remedy, leave the dogs alone. Pop, I don’t know where you’re hiding, but if you’re not next to me in the next ten seconds we’ll be having words.”

And just like that, the entire gang of girls stampeded out of the loft, Rachel’s dogs almost following them until the Remedy girl shooed them back in and closed the door.

“Lisa,” Brian began. “Could you kindly explain what the fuck just happened?”

***

“And so that’s what happened.”

Coil stared across his desk at Lisa.

Lisa stared right back.

The cat in the doggy carrier next to kept chewing at the locks of its cage. 

He sighed. “I see. We learned some valuable things, at the very least. You’re dismissed.”

“Uh, right,” Lisa said. She looked around, then shuffled off and out of the room while Coil’s gaze followed her back.

When the door snapped shut, he leaned his head back into his throne-like seat and growled under his breath. His eyes snapped open when a soft weight pressed up against his hand.

Coil stared as the cat Lisa had brought in squirmed under his fingers. It was a far tabby, fur coloured an unnatural black-grey-white pattern. Shrugging to himself, he began to pat it on the head.

“I’ll get you next time, Hebert.”

***

We’re gonna need a name for Smol!Lisa. I’m thinking Snitch.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Taylor made sure all four of her sisters were sitting down in a more or less straight line on the couch. Even Crochet, who was mostly innocent here. They all looked down at their feet and shifted between pouts and pitiful, watery-eyed puppy-dog looks in a transparent attempt to avoid punishment.

The attempt was cute, but there was no way it was going to work on the likes of Taylor Hebert. So, with a deep breath to harden her heart, she stood before her sisters, crossed her arms and set her legs like a sergeant looking at a lot of unimpressive soldiers. “Which one of you wants to explain what just happened?” she asked.

The girls looked at each other, and as one, decided that the one who would speak was anyone but themselves.

Taylor sighed and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. It didn’t help that her little problem was making it hard to focus.

“Are you okay, Big Sis?” Remedy asked. “I can make it better, if you’re hurting.”

“Nothing you can help with, Remedy,” Taylor said. “But thanks. My tummy’s just a little queasy.”

“Is it another little sister?” Crochet asked, then her face lit up. “Or are you pregnant?”

Taylor reminded herself that taking deep breaths was an excellent way to stay calm. Maybe she could just keep breathing deeply until all of her problems solved themselves. “No Crochet, I’m not pregnant. A whole lot of things would have to go really wrong for that to happen.”

“Aww,” Crochet sighed.”I want a little niece to play with.”

She was going to have to do something about that, she realized. Not getting pregnant, but Crochet’s obsession with her giving the girl a niece to play with.

“So, ya touched Tits,” Cheshire said, derailing all of Taylor’s thoughts.

“I did what?”

Cheshire nodded. “Ya touched Tits. The blonde one. She’s their ringleader, I figure.”

Taylor shut her mouth with a click, blinked a few times, then reset herself with a shake of the head. “Yeah, I touched... is that really her name?”

“That’s what Regret said. He’s the skinny one.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes, but none of the other sisters were jumping in to say that Cheshire was wrong. “She was hardly big enough to earn the name,” she muttered.

“The one with the puppies was called Bitch,” Remedy pointed out.

“Yeah,” Cheshire said. “And the black one’s Goo.”

“Tits, Regret, Goo and... and a word that I don’t want to hear any of you repeating,” she said. Her head was starting to pound. “I don’t know what kind of depraved weirdoes you stumbled onto, especially with names like those, but I would really appreciate a full explanation.”

“Well, we could give ya one,” Cheshire said. “But you seem really out of it.” She moved to the edge of the couch and leaned forwards, ears perked and eyes filled with adoration.

Remedy nodded and scooted up too. She pressed her hands together as if in prayer. “You do look a little pale. You should sit down. Maybe we can get some water. And prepare your bed? Pop could get your PJs. We could go to bed early.”

Taylor snorted. “Stop pretending to be nice just to get out of me punishing you.”

Pop shook her head. “I, unlike these other imouto, am ready to face the consequences of my actions, Onee-sama.”

“Sell-out,” Cheshire muttered.

“It’s okay, Big Sis, you can have another little sister, and then we can talk.” Crochet said.

“Yeah, even the snitch is on our side,” Cheshire cheered.

“I’m not a snitch,” Crochet said.

“Yeah you are, you told Big Sis everything,” Cheshire shot back.

“It’s not snitching if it’s to Big Sis,” was Crochet’s reply.

Next to her, Pop nodded solemnly. “The seamstress is correct. Onee-sama deserves only honesty from her imouto.”

Taylor sighed again, a hand going to her stomach. Her power was being insistent, a constant rumble like the onset of indigestion. Or maybe that was just dealing with the drama. “Okay, fine,” she said.

Four cheers reverberated across the Hebert living room. Cheshire started bouncing on the couch, Pop popped to the far corner of the room to watch from the shadows and Remedy and Crochet hugged while cheering. Even Taylor felt a bit of a smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t think you guys would want even more sisters,” Taylor said.

“Yeah, ‘course we do,” Cheshire said. “‘S long as ya remember that I was the first and the best, we’re all good.” She frowned a little. “But you’ll need to give out more headpats to make up for it, yeah?”

Taylor snorted. “Sure,” she said. “You guys ready?” she asked. “I don’t want to scare the new little sister, so be nice.”

“I’ll go put the tea on!” Crochet declared before rushing out of the room.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” Taylor said as she pushed. She knew it was probably a bad idea, and that she would have to do something to avoid coming into contact with more parahumans in the future, but it was unavoidable. She couldn’t live with her power niggling at her for the rest of her life.

Eyes squeezed shut, Taylor focused on the burning in her gut and, for lack of a better word, squished it out.

“Sup!” Cheshire said.

“Hello, lesser nee-chan,” Pop said from her corner.

“Huh, I’ll have to give you a poke to see if those are natural,” Remedy said.

Taylor opened her eyes to see the back of a head, a head covered in a squashed brown fedora plopped on a mop of blonde hair done up in a big braid that stopped at the base of her new sister’s back. She blinked as her eyes fixed on the long duster the girl was wearing, or rather the large, bushy tail sticking out of the bottom of her coat.

The new girl whipped around, bottle-green eyes searching until they locked onto Taylor’s, then she grinned, the huge fox ears sticking out from under her hat perking up so much that it almost fell off. “Heya there, sis, I’m Tattletail.”

***

Hey, if you like this story, then you might like the quest I'm running on Space Battles! It shares a few things in common with Headpats.

Anywho, big thank you to my patreons who bugged me incessantly to get me to update faster. They're the real little siblings here.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Tattletail smiled with the full knowledge that she was the best. She knew this because her powers told her so, and they were never, ever wrong.

She grinned even wider when she prepared herself to speak her first sentence ever, the most important sentence ever. “Heya there, sis, I’m Tattletail.”

The name was perfect! 

The surprise on Big Sis’ face lasted for a few more seconds, then softened into a gentle smile. “Well, at least finding a name won’t be a chore,” she said. “Welcome to the family, Tattletail.” Big Sis reached down, her hand growing bigger and bigger in Tattletail’s sight, then it rubbed against her ears on the way past them. She held her breath to stop from vibrating too hard.

Impact! 

She felt her smile pulling so hard at her cheeks that it hurt. Her first pat! Leaning forwards, she pressed into the embrace and it only got better when she heard one of the other girls, one of her sisters, huff in displeasure. 

“Now pat my tummy!” Tattletail demanded.

Big Sis laughed, which was the same as saying no but not as painful. “Maybe later,” she lied horribly. Tattletail didn’t mind. Her tummy was the most pattable, it would be rubbed, and her ears would be scritched and her tail floofed. Yes, with her awesome power she would have Big Sis wrapped around her pinky in no time. “Do you want to meet your sisters?” Big Sis asked.

The competition. 

Like a fox scenting a mouse, she spun around and looked across the other girls in the room. Big Sis pointed to one of them, the only one with darker skin and animal features. Two cat ears poked out from under messy black hair and a tail was wiggling behind her. “That’s your oldest sibling, Cheshire.”

“Sup, foxy,” Cheshire said with a dismissive wave. She was, as far as Tattletail could tell, a little miffed that she wasn’t the only one that had animal features now. It was all pure jealousy, fear that the thing that made her special in Big Sis’ eyes was gone now. 

Cheshire wanted more attention, but didn’t know how to get it. Worse, she knew that her normal personality wouldn’t get her the love she wanted but didn’t know how to even start to change. Hence, the cat parts. 

The only thing bigger than Cheshire’s insecurities was her ego. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, kitty,” Tattletail said. 

“And this,” Big Sis went on, oblivious to Tattletail’s dissection of Cheshire, “is your second oldest sister, Crochet.”

A girl was walking into the room carrying a tray. There were carefully laid out cups and a heavy kettle of steaming water for tea. “Ah, hello, new sister,” she said with genuine pleasure. 

This one was interesting. She wasn’t there to hear Tattletail’s name, more concerned with being the perfect host than anything else. All because she knew that it was the best way to make Big Sis appreciate her. 

No. Tattletail narrowed her eyes, then smiled back at Crochet before she could notice the expression. It wasn’t about being appreciated, it was about being useful to Big Sis. Crochet was playing the game too. “Hey there, Crochet. I’m Tattletail,” she said before waving.

Crochet removed one hand from the tray, revealing a tiny ribbon holding onto that end. She waved, but Tattletail was busier noticing all the tiny cords wrapped around each cup and the kettle. This sister was a subtle one. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She started setting up the cups, only tiny clinks of porcelain telling the room that she was there. Tattletail idly noted that she filled a cup for Big Sis first and added sugar and milk without having to ask. 

Competition indeed.

“And this is Pop,” Big Sis said, dragging Tattletail’s attention back around.

“Hello, Kitsune, I am Poppu,” Pop said with her voice. Her eyes, on the other hand, were telling Tattletail in no uncertain terms that if she hurt Big Sis, she would die.

“A ninja, huh?” Tattletail said. She would need to get on this one’s good side. “I hope you’re the honourable sort.”

“I am as honourable as our Onee-sama requires.”

So, she had to make sure she was included in that ‘our.’ Simple enough.

“And last but not least,” Big Sis said. “This is Remedy.”

“Hey,” Tattletail spoke when it was clear that Remedy wouldn’t be the first to do so. The girl gave her a small wave and a return ‘hey’ that was almost lost in the neck of her overly large robes.

It took Tattletail a bit of searching and some throbbing in the back of her head to pin Remedy down. The girl was the family’s healer. The more Tattletail looked, the more she realized that there was something terribly dark about Remedy. The healer could obviously do more than just heal, and she was the sort of girl to push boundaries when left unchecked. 

Another one to watch out for. “Pleasure to meetcha,” Tattletail said. 

“Likewise,” was Remedy’s reply.

“And then there’s me,” Big Sis said. “I’m Taylor, Taylor Hebert. Which makes you... Tattletail Hebert, I guess. But you can call me Big Sis.”

Tattletail grinned up at Big Sis, then, as if on the spur of the moment, wrapped her in a tight, tight hug. Even her tail came around to pat Big Sis behind the legs. “Thanks, Big Sis!” she said as she let go. 

“You’re welcome,” Big Sis said over the rattle of a tea cup and the grinding of teeth. “So, I don’t actually know what tit-- er, your progenitor’s powers were. I’m sorry.”

“Ah, that’s fine!” Tattletail said. She winked at Big Sis and presented her with a V-is-for-Victory. “I know everything!” 

“We’ll see about that,” Big Sis said.

“Don’t worry, Big Sis. I’ll solve all of your problems in a jiffy.” She looked past Big Sis and towards the others. “All of them.”

***

Oh boy. 

Big, hunking huge thank-you to all of my Patreons for bully-- for encouraging me every day to write more and more stuff for you guys to consume. 

More Headpats eventually! Oh, and if you want to be the Imouto, then check out my quest!


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter Forty

Remedy kept her arms crossed and her brow pinched. She even puckered her lips a little.

Tattletail wiggled her butt on the seat and tried to make herself comfortable. It was hard, because no one ever accounted for things like tails when making chairs. Not that she deserved to be comfortable, the fat meanie. “I’m not fat.”

Oh course, none of this would have happened if Tattletail just knew how to respect other people’s boundaries. It was all an unfortunate accident born from Remedy’s newest sister’s lack of common sense.

Maybe she could accidentally give her butt cancer so that she’d leave her chair alone. “If you give me butt cancer,” Tattletail said. “I’m going to tell Big Sis.”

“Tattletale,” Remedy hissed.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Tattletail said, her mouth twisting into the smuggest grin.

Remedy wanted to wipe the grin away. And the mouth too. Leave her youngest sister all ‘I have no mouth yet I must snitch.’ “Why are you taking my computer time away?” she asked.

“We both know you would just use it to look at racy pictures of Glory Girl.”

“Well yeah, that’s what computer time is for,” Remedy said. And all pictures of Glory Girl were racey. She was the fastest, after all.

Tattletail’s eyes narrowed and her tail swished. “You really shouldn’t be on the internet. You’re too innocent.”

Remedy raised a hand. “Left or right cheek?”

Tattletail raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, sheesh. Look, I need to look some things up for Big Sis. It’s important. No joke. Cross my heart and all.”

She huffed and looked away before recrossing her arms. “You should have just started with that. What do you need to look up?”

Tattletail shifted around and faced the computer screen. She glared at the password prompt for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and typing ‘password.’ “Big Sis needs money because we’re all very expensive. That and she thinks we need to go to school.”

“We don’t,” Remedy said.

“We know that, but Big Sis wants the best for us. Don’t worry, you can give all the kids measles or something and we’ll have to stay home, then Pop can stab all the bus tires, and Cheshire can spook the staff. We just need to keep doing things so that the school stays closed.”

Tattletail clicked on the browser then waited a few moments. It opened to the Glory Girl fanclub frontpage. They stared at each other for a moment.

“Whatever,” Tattletail said as she clicked on the favourites tab and found Parahumans Online.

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.  
You are currently logged in, xXxBarbieCowgirl11xXx  
You are viewing:  
• Threads you have replied to  
• AND Threads that have new replies  
• OR private message conversations with new replies  
• Thread OP is displayed.  
• Ten posts per page  
• Last ten messages in private message history.  
• Threads and private messages are ordered chronologically.

Tattletail stared at the name for a while, then turned to Remedy, her mouth agape. “Seriously?”

“What’s wrong with my screen name?” Remedy asked.

“Everything.” She shook her head, ears flip-flopping around. “Nevermind. It’ll work.”

She clicked around a little, then went to the pages where people could ask questions to the general public.

“You need to be thirteen or have Big Sis’ permission to actually post,” Remedy said.

“Sure you do,” Tattletail said.

“You’re not even thirteen hours old! You’re breaking the Terms of Service!”

“You’re not supposed to read those!” Tattletail said. “And we’re posting to ask something for Big Sis, so it’s okay.”

“That’s not what the rules say.”

Tattletail snorted. “Gosh, you really like rules, huh? Stop being so uncool.”

“I’m totally cool!” Remedy shouted.

“Girls, is everything okay?” came a voice from deeper in the house. It was dad, and he only sounded a little concerned.

“We’re okay, daddy!” Remedy called back.

“Be nice to each other,” he said.

“Okay!” the two sisters chorused as one a moment before they returned to glaring at each other. “Fine,” Tattletail said. “I’ll just do my thing and get off, okay?”

Remedy huffed and looked away. This was her happy alone private time, which was the best time except for the times she spent with Big Sis. Still, if Tattletail really needed the computer then she’d allow it as long as it was for a good cause.

♦ Topic: Hello! Questions about wards and stuff  
In: Boards ► Information ► Wards and Protectorate  
xXxBarbieCowgirl11xXx (Original Poster)(Glory Girl Fanatic)  
Posted on February 14th 2011:

Okay so someone I know has superpowers and we totally need a lot of money to buy stuff and we are kind of under 18 for now. We dont want to do patrols and stuff because thats lame and all the costumes the wards wear look super stupid so we wanted to know how much money we could make for just not messing up the city?

Remedy read the message even as Tattletail clicked ‘send.’ “That’s never going to work,” she said.

“Yeah, it totally will,” Tattletail said. “But not at first. We’ll need to make a huge mess of things first. Like, scare the locals into thinking we’re a lot more trouble than they want to mess with. Then we can ask them for money and make Big Sis happy by getting a house with more rooms.”

“I’d like my own room,” Remedy said somewhat wistfully. It would be nice to have a door, and a lock, and her own computer. She frowned as she reached the logical conclusion of what having her own room would mean. “But I wouldn’t get to sleep on Big Sis’ bed anymore.”

“We get to sleep on Big Sis’ bed?” Tattletail asked, eyes wide, then her face shifted into a huge, toothy grin. “I’m going to wrap her in my tail so she wants to sleep next to me the most.”

“Nuh-uh,” Remedy said. “There’s a pecking order, and you’re at the bottom now. You only get to skip up the list if you’re having a nightmare. And not a fake one, I’d know.”

Tattletail sniffed. “We’ll see,” she said before clicking on the refresh button. It took a minute for all the things on the screen to disappear and come back, and by the time it was done there were a few comments.

(Showing page 01 of 01)

► BrightFlare87  
Replied on February 14th, 2011:  
Yikes, that grammar alone screams ‘Wards age.’ That or you’re a boomer.

► NegativeHumility  
Replied on February 14th, 2011:  
Not in it for the heroics huh? That’s alright, I guess. You might want to look into the more corporate side of things, they tend to pay out a lot more. Lower risk too, usually. Not as morally righteous, but if you don’t care for idealism then it’s the way to go.

► I_Lost_My_Acog (PRT Trooper)  
Replied on February 14th, 2011:  
If you’re contemplating joining the local Wards, then the best move would be to phone the local PRT headquarters (the number is the same in every city) and ask for an admission interview. You should get the opportunity to talk to someone who will be able to guide you through the process.

► SanestSith  
Replied on February 14th, 2011:  
Hey Op,  
Don’t forget that if you want to join the Wards and keep any semblance of control over your identity, it might be best to go out and do something public before joining up, otherwise they’ll railroad your identity.

► Off-Centre-GG (Glory Girl Fanatic)  
Replied on February 14th, 2011:  
Join New Wave! You’ll have to unmask, but you’ll get to spend time with Glory Girl (and the others too)

► Sam_Minimum  
Replied on February 14th, 2011:  
@ SanestSith  
The Protectorate wouldn’t do that.

► BlackWizard (verified technomancer)  
Replied on February 14th, 2011:  
Just be careful, OP. A lawyer might be a bit pricey, but it’s worth having one while discussing any sort of contract, especially one with Satan’s minions a government agency like the PRT. Once you’re in, it’s damned near impossible to get out.

Tattletail hummed as she read all the comments that had already appeared. “I think I have an idea. A genius idea. We’re going to make so much money.”

Remedy had a bad feeling in the pit of her tummy. “What kind of idea?”

“The best kind,” Tattetail said as her face twisted into a grin that Remedy didn’t have the words to describe. It was very smug. “Actually, I do need to look up one more thing.”

She tabbed out of the PHO page, then, as soon as she got to the browser’s homepage (which was of course the Glory Girl fanclub homepage) she sighed and typed into the url box. A moment later the browser opened up onto the SuperVillain wikia, specifically the Undersiders’ page. She started flipping through every member’s page, even if some were nearly empty.

“Oh yeah,” Tattletail said as she scrolled down. “This will most definitely probably work. I need a phone.”

“Don’t use the home phone, or they’ll know where Big Sis lives,” Remedy said.

“I know that.” Tattletail stood up. “You can go back to looking at pictures of Glory Girl’s legs now,” she said before walking towards the kitchen. “Pop! I need you to steal someone’s phone. It’s for Onee-sama!”

Remedy huffed. She could worry about all that later. For now, she had her internet back, and that was all that mattered.

***

Big thank-you to all of my Patreons for bully-- for encouraging me every day to write more and more stuff for you guys to consume. A couple of screennames in here were courtesy of whomever was online when I was looking for names.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-One

Taylor woke up to the sensation of something tickling her under the nose. She turned her head away, but just a minute later the tickling was back.

Blearily opening one eye, she found herself staring into a poofy feather duster of orange-red fur, a few black tufts decorating the tip of the thing poking at her face.

She blinked a few more times and reassessed where she was. The pillow by her head and the ceiling above were enough to tell her that it was her bedroom, but she didn’t recall owning a feather duster.

There was something wrapped around one leg, a heavy weight across her chest and her hand was over something warm. 

Leaning her head up, she found that Cheshire had a leg over hers and was hugging her thigh close to her face, nose scrunched up against Taylor’s side even as her ears twitched in what had to be a contented dream. Further up, Remedy was stretched out so that one arm crossed Taylor’s chest like a warm, heavy noodle.

Pop was on the bed too, though she occupied the farthest corner and was sitting up against the wall, entirely wrapped in a pile of blankets so that only her head was visible, and her sword. Taylor made a note to remind her, again, that there shouldn’t be any weapons in bed.

She wiggled her hand, then turned to her right to find that Tattletail was sleeping, feet towards Taylor’s head and both hands pressing Taylor’s down onto her exposed tummy. Every time Taylor moved her hand there would be a corresponding twitch from her tail.

She sighed. This was her life now. It didn’t matter how many blankets she put on the floor or how many air mattresses she found, by the time morning rolled around she would be covered in little sisters. 

Taylor wasn’t going to admit that it was actually kind of... nice. She felt loved, which wasn’t something she had ever needed to put into words. The last time she could remember that warmth was when her mother hugged her close and reminded her that she was the most important thing in the world to her. To feel that again every morning was a little heady. 

She moved her hand off Tattletail’s tummy and ignored the whine of protest before the girl rolled into a ball, her tail coming up between her legs until she bit into the black tip. Then she wiggled her leg until Cheshire grumbled and turned to grab onto Remedy. 

The Remedy situation fixed itself as she hugged Cheshire closer instead.

Taylor saw Pop open one eye to look as she got out of the bed, but her little ninja just nodded once and went back to her quiet, sleepy vigil. She earned herself a gentle pat on the head as Taylor got up and padded over to the hallway.

Judging by the chainsaw snore from her dad’s room, he was still firmly asleep, which only left one person MIA that morning.

The stairs creaked just a little as she made her way to the first floor. That’s where she found her missing sister.

Crochet’s head was bobbing up and down like a metronome while a kettle sat on the stove. “Big Sis?” she mumbled as Taylor moved closer. “I’m making tea and breakfast.”

“I can see that,” Taylor said as she turned on the burner under the kettle. “You’ll be waiting for a long time if you don’t actually turn the stove on.” She checked the kettle, but Crochet hadn’t forgotten to put water in. 

The nearness meant that Crochet had no trouble grabbing Taylor and sticking her face into Taylor’s side. “‘M tired.”

Taylor chuckled and patted Crochet behind the head. “Then why are you up, silly? It’s Saturday morning.”

“Have to make you breakfast,” Crochet said into her side.

Taylor stopped patting her head so that she could give her a quick hug. She leaned a little closer. “Don’t tell your sisters, but you’re the best,” she whispered.

It was as if she’d injected pure caffeine into Crochet. Her eyes widened and a smile blossomed across her face as if she had just seen the world’s first sunrise. “I-I” she stuttered. “I’ll put on toast.”

Making breakfast was a quick affair. She would have wanted to make eggs, but they were out. And there was no butter, or milk left. No cereals either. Just half a bag of bread that she had bought not two days ago and the bottom of a jar of peanut butter. She found some jam that still looked good tucked in the far corner of the pantry too. It was easy to see, on account of the lack of stuff in said pantry.

The pit in her stomach grew a little. It was hard enough when it was just her and her dad. Five more mouths to feed was really pushing their limits. 

Tattletail was the first to make her way downstairs. She looked around the kitchen, zeroed in on the plate of PB&J sandwiches and stole one with a swipe. “Mmorgging,” she said through a mouthful of bread.

“Good morning to you too,” Taylor said.

“We need to talk,” Tattletail said as soon as she was done swallowing.

“Do we?”

The little fox girl nodded. “Yup. I made plans. And then, because I knew you’d say no to those, I made even more plans.”

“This I have to hear,” Taylor said as she sat down, a mug of steaming tea on one side and a sandwich in the other.

Tattletail nodded and tried to look serious. With only one ear perked while the other was still flopped to the side, it didn’t work. “We need lots of money. But before we can get that money by working for it, we need to tell the PRT to mind their own business. And before we can do that, we need to do something heroic.”

“I almost follow. Go on,” Taylor said before taking a sip.

“Right! So there’s going to be a bank robbery today, and we’re going to stop it.”

***

Thank-you to all of my Patreons for for encouraging me every day to write more and more stuff for you guys to consume.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-Two

“This is such a bad idea,” Taylor said. She reached up to adjust the mask over her face, then stopped and ran a hand over her jacket instead. She was practically floating in it. She never thought that she would go out in public wearing one of her mom’s suits and for good reason. Annette Hebert was a whole lot more... more than Taylor was and it showed in the looseness of her jacket, blouse and pencil skirt. 

Still, between her mom’s old clothes and the costume Crochet had revealed...

She shook her head and looked around. People were clearing out of their way with alacrity, none of them daring to stick around as her troop of little sisters moved around her like the strangest little bodyguards.

Cheshire was in the lead, stomping along in her cat onesie, hood pulled back and cat ears on full display as they stuck out of a mess of bushy black hair. She had a domino mask on, one decorated with wiry whiskers that bobbed with every motion she made. 

Tattletail was to Taylor’s left, tail sticking out of the back of her trench coat and waving around in an open display of happiness. She was almost skipping. Almost. Still, her little shit-eating grin told anyone looking her way that they had better not mess with her. That and her domino mask that screamed ‘cape.’

Then there was Remedy who was staying close to Taylor’s right. The sisters had drawn straws to decide who would hold Taylor’s hand as they walked and Remedy was the proud winner. Taylor almost couldn’t see the smile hidden by the big, poofy white scarf wrapped around Remedy’s lower face and shoulders, but it was there. 

Behind her were two shambling shapes. Miss Cottontail, the murderous cloth rabbit, and Mister Buttons, a fat brown bear made mostly from one of her dad’s old leather jackets and, of course, Crochet herself. When the girl found the time to make a victorian costume, one that bore more than a passing similarity to Parian’s, Taylor didn’t know. 

What she did know was that Crochet still needed to work on her colour theory. Gothic dresses should not have contained so many neon colors.

Last but certainly not least came Pop. The girl appeared before them in a low crouch, always between the group and the nearest tourists or Brocktonites too slow to move. She was wrapped from head to toe in black bandage-like material except for poofy sleeves and thigh wraps, all of that hidden by her purple-ish yukata. 

And of course, her sword was always out when she appeared. It didn’t seem to matter how many times Taylor told her to stow the weapon away. She was beginning to think that orders only applied to the ‘current’ Pop, and not to any future clones. Or maybe Pop was stealthy enough that Taylor had only ever told a clone and it didn’t carry over to the real Pop.

More headaches for later. Right then, her focus had to be on what she was doing, which was mostly walking towards Brockton Bay’s busiest bank, in broad daylight, with what seemed to the layman like at least five other capes.

As they made it to the front steps, an overweight security guard stepped out, one hand shaking on his taser while his eyes flicked over the group as if counting them over and over again. “Uh, you can’t enter here?” he tried.

“Yes we can,” Tattletail said. “We’re customers.”

“We have a no mask policy,” the guard said.

“He’s lying,” Tattletail told Taylor, loud enough that the guard heard. “They want heroes in their banks as often as possible, so they don’t have any rules like that. Also there are laws that protect the identities of capes that those rules would go against. Now give me pats.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to give you pats just because you’re a smug little rules-lawyer.”

“Pats need to be earned,” Crochet said from her place on Mister Buttons. She had been visibly self-satisfied all morning.

Tattletail stuck her tongue out at Crochet. Taylor chose to ignore that, even though she could see that they were all on camera. It would be worse if her reprimanding the girls were caught on film.

At least, that’s what Tattletail had said; she still suspected that was a lie to avoid punishment. 

“We’re really just here to help,” Taylor said to the guard. “Really.”

“Uh,” he said.

“Get out of our way, fatso,” Cheshire growled. “We’s got stuff to do in there and y’er in the way.” As impolite as Cheshire was being (and she was going to get a stern talking to about it later) she did get the guard to move aside.

If they had been watched outside, it was nothing compared to the number of people looking at them once they entered the bank. Tellers stared wide-eyed and some of the customers ran out of the bank, abandoning whatever they had come for. Those last were probably the sort to live long, healthy lives, Taylor figured. It must be nice to have proper survival instincts. 

“Okay, so now what?” she asked.

Tattletail reached into one pocket of her trench coat and pulled out a smartphone. “Now I need to make a call.”

“Where did you get that?” Taylor asked.

“Don’t ask and I’ll tell no lies,” Tattletail said with a smirk.

“I’m asking,” Taylor said flatly. “And if you lie I will tan your hide to match the colour of your fluffy little tail.”

All the blood drained from Tattletail’s face. “Pop got it for me.”

“Baka kitsune, you said you would not speak to Onee-sama,” Pop said.

“Your Onee-sama is scarier than you are,” Tattletail defended herself.

Pop’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “She is more scary, yes. But you are still a baka kitsune.”

Taylor idly pondered the course of her life that left her eager for bank robbers to arrive. 

***

Big thanks to Blue Nine and Sammax! They helped with the grammar and wordings!


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter Forty-Three

He didn’t know how Tattletale had managed to convince him that this was a good idea. He chalked it up to her being a cute-ish, if off-limits, girl and him being a giant dumbass. 

Robbing a bank. Robbing the biggest bank in Brockton Bay while the heroes were supposed to be busy. Sure, it was the kind of thing that would put any villain team on the map, but infamy was a double-edged sword. He wasn’t sure if they were ready for the spotlight, especially not after they had been taken down by a group of schoolgirls that looked younger than his sister. 

Getting his ass beaten by a preteen put things into perspective.

“Bitch, keep an eye out on your dogs, we don’t want them stepping on anyone,” he said. It earned him a flat look from the girl, but she didn’t protest. “Regent, stay back and trip up anyone that acts up. Tattletale... for the love of everything, shut up.”

“Thanks boss. Your positive reinforcement is doing wonders for my fragile self-confidence,” Tattletale sniped back.

He rolled his eyes. Even with his motorcycle helmet on, he was confident Tattletale would know.

They reached the doors that would lead to the main floor of the bank and he took a deep breath. With a start, he moved forwards and crashed into the door shoulder-first, slamming it aside. His smoke poured out of the holes in his leather jacket, turning him into what he knew looked like a monster to normal people. 

“Okay, everyone on the ground right now! Do what we say and nobody’ll get---”

Brian stopped, boot squeaking on the floor as he took in the lobby. 

The customers were dropping to the ground, some of them screaming in panic, but a larger portion of them were just staring, quite a few with phones out and pointed his way. That was unexpected, even for Brocktonites. 

What was worse were the five people standing in a rough formation in the middle of the lobby, all of them facing him. He recognized about half of them. The girl in the oversized business suit had to be the infamous ‘Big Sister’ in her costume, and the one at the back with the two frankly nightmarish plushies towering around her was new. So was the fox-girl smiling at him from where she sat on one of the counters, tail wagging slowly behind her. 

The only one missing was the tiny ninja.

Then she appeared next to Big Sister with a pop and swung a knife as long as his forearm around in a tight loop.

“Ah, shit,” he said.

“Uh,” Big Sister said when the silence stretched. “Get on the ground right now and nobody’ll get hurt?”

Brian looked at his own team. Bitch’s dogs were nearly full-sized already, which was pretty much the only advantage on his side right now compared to the last time he faced off against the army of brats.

They, on the other hand, had three more members than when they’d soundly beaten the Undersiders.

Shit odds. 

“So, just to be sure, you’re not also robbing the bank, right?”

Big Sister shook her head. “No, we’re here to stop you from robbing the bank. I thought, I thought that was pretty clear.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. How about we just leave?” he asked.

“What?!” The one in the cat onesie said. “You can’t just leave, I wanna kick yer butts!” 

“If they surrender we will need to watch over them. Corpses do not try to escape,” the teleporter said, one hand running up along the back of her sword. 

“Okay, time out, Brat Squad,” Tattletale said, her hands forming a ‘T’ in the air. 

Having Lisa try to talk them out of trouble was usually a bad idea, but it was an idea, and he was all out of those. 

“Don’t let Tits talk, Big Sis, she’s rude and stupid,” the fox said.

“Tits?” Tattletale repeated. She looked down at her chest, which was about average as far as Brian could tell. “What?”

“Isn’t that your name?” Big Sister asked. She pointed to all the members of the Undersiders in turn. “Tits, Goo, Regret and... the B word.”

Brian worked his mouth, but he couldn’t find the right words to deny her. Worse, the light caught on a few camera lenses. This was going to be all over PHO by the evening. “No,” he finally said. “We’re the Undersiders--”

“Big sis, is Undersider a sex thing?” The fox-girl asked. Her sweet, childish voice was far too loud in the bank’s lobby.

“What’s sex?” 

Everyone, literally every person in the bank, turned towards the back where the doll girl was standing, wide eyes focused on Big Sister. She noticed all the attention coming her way and shyed back a step.

“Sex is a thing animals do to make more animals,” the cat girl said with a firm nod. “I saw it on TV.” 

Bitch nodded in agreement.

Big Sister took a long, deep breath and locked eyes with Brian, and even through his mask it felt as if she was spearing him in place with her eyes alone. “I swear if I need to give them the talk because of your little team of villains we’ll be having words.”

The threat should not have been that scary, but he still felt himself wanting to back off. 

He started to raise his hands. “You know what, I think we’re just going to... run!” 

Brian made it all of five feet into his darkness before something hard and sharp bit into the back of his knee and sent him sprawling.

From his new vantage point on the floor, he had an excellent view of the ninja girl appearing in the air above Bitch and drop kicking her into the ground.

Bitch’s dogs rushed forwards only to be tackled to the ground by the giant plush toys and then knocked out by the girl in white robes with only a touch. 

Regent started to move, but the cat girl was faster, she rushed through Brian’s smoke, a blowdart held to the side and her other hand balled into a tight fist. A fist which rammed Regent right between the legs. 

He went down with a grunt. “That’s for not having candy, jerkhole!” 

Brian started to stand, but he found Big Sister standing above him. She wasn’t armed or anything, but the threat was still there. A glance to the side showed Tattletale facing off against the fox girl, both of them glaring at each other.

He let his head fall back with a heavy clunk. 

This was all Tattletale’s fault. 

***  
Big thanks to Blue Nine and Sammax! They helped with the grammar and wordings! 

Part one of the bank fight. If you wanna call it a fight.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter Forty-Four

The van came to a screeching halt, the doors swinging open with a grind of steel on steel.

Gallant was the first out, Aegis and Clockblocker right on his heels. Vista warped the path before them, spreading out the Wards into a large semi-circle before the bank.

The two troopers in the van stayed in place, but they were ready to jump out at a moment’s notice. His empathic senses were inundated with eagerness, fear, joy, elation, excitement, a cocktail of emotions that were all primed towards fighting. His fellow Wards were ready to take out any villain at a moment’s notice. 

“Okay, formation Beta,” Aegis said. “Stay in a line. Browbeat, stay close to Vista, you’re playing bodyguard for her since she’s our VIP.”

There was a twinge of annoyance from the girl, but she nodded and continued warping the street. Soon the back door would lead right to them too.

Brockton Bay Central stood before them, a huge brick building with all the classical features of a place built for the wealthy of a hundred years ago. The steps before the bank were cleared of civilians and those that were around were keeping their distances, though there were plenty of gawkers with cameras out.

“Hostages are our number one priority,” Aegis said.

Shadow Stalker snorted over the line before using her power to jump to the top of a streetlamp. “Always protecting the weaklings,” she muttered over comms.

“That’s our duty as heroes,” Vista said. He could sense the indignity pouring off of Vista in waves. “Not that you’d know anything about that.”

“Your idea of heroics is letting the bad guys leave just because a few nobodies might get hurt,” Shadow Stalker shot back. She sounded heated, but a glance her way and he knew that she was amused more than anything. 

“Cut the chatter,” Aegis said. “Someone’s moving.”

The disorganized but excited mess of emotions around him snapped; from one second to the next it went from a nervous maelstrom to a focused beam of laser sharp attention. He could see why.

Capes were coming out of the bank, nearly ten of them. He recognized the Undersiders: Grue, Tattletale, Regent and Hellhound, their profiles still fresh in his mind. The four shuffled off to one side, looking and feeling rather defeated, though Tattletale had a burning core of incensed embarrassment. It was a weird mix, and one he would have loved to study more, but he had other concerns. 

Such as the six other capes standing near the entrance of the bank.

“Uh,” Clockblocker said. “Did Console forget to count? Because that’s more than four. A lot more.”

“They’re all little girls, maybe thirteen at most,” Aegis said.

“Hey!” Vista said instantly. “Don’t underestimate them just because they’re young.”

Gallant nodded. “She’s right. Vista’s around that age and I wouldn’t want to fight her, let alone five capes like her. Keep on your guard.”

“I’m calling this in,” Aegis said. “Clock, care to introduce us?”

“Oh yeah, sure, let me be the one tossed to the rabid, bank-robbing girl scouts,” Clockblocker said as he began to move up. 

“They’re not nervous or anything,” Gallant said as he read the girls. It wasn’t quite true, the oldest one in the group was a bundle of anxiety, but other than her the rest were all smug or excited or bored. 

The pure, unadulterated smugness coming from the girl with the tail and ears was incredible. The feeling intensified when their eyes met for a moment. 

“Thanks, Gallant, I really appreciate your ability to reassure me,” Clockblocker said with dripping sarcasm. He took a few steps closer even as half the girls moved down a few steps. The oldest looking one was in the lead, with a small girl in a ninja costume on one side and one in a cat onesie on the other. “Hey there,” Clockblocker called out. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You mean meeting law enforcement at a bank robbery?” the oldest girl said.

Gallant narrowed his eyes. There was something about her. No, not her, the others around her. The girls all had an emotional response when she spoke. 

“It’s a day job,” Clockbloker said with easy joviality. “So, hey, uh, mind surrendering so we can skip the whole fighting thing?” he asked. 

The girl blinked. “Uh, actually, we’re done here. I don’t think there will be any fighting.”

“Unless you wanna go down?” the girl with cat ears said. She glared up at the pole where Sophia was standing. “Me and Shadows over there have got unfinished business.”

“You’re the little shit that copied my powers!” Shadow Stalker accused. She brought up her twin crossbows, but didn’t fire or even aim them at anyone. She was angry, but not that much more than usual.

“Cheshire, enough,” the older girl said. She placed a hand on the cat-eared girl’s head and...

Gallant took a small step back. The wash of joy, of pure glee and smugness aimed at the others around her... “Shit, she’s some sort of Master,” he said.

“Dammit,” Aegis said. “Vista, Clock, take her out first!” 

There was a confused pause, everyone holding their breath as the street bent and warped to put Clockblocker right in front of the girl. She stumbled back, but he lunged forward with his hand outstretched.

“Big Sis!” screamed a few of the girls.

Clockblocker’s hand touched the girl, and she froze mid-stumble. “Got ya,” he said. He backpedalled and Vista’s power carried him away to a safe distance with practiced smoothness.

Gallant had seen sudden shifts in emotion before, had witnessed people being told that loved ones had passed away, or seen people breaking up in public. He had sensed people like Oni Lee and Hookwolf who were savage killers, ready to rip and tear someone apart just because they could.

Never, in all the time that he had his powers, did he ever feel such an overwhelming and powerful shift from such a large group.

He swallowed. 

The girls seethed, drowning in anger so deep, so incensed and vile that it made him sick just to look at it. It was as if their auras had condensed together to form a huge, bloodsoaked skull, gnashing its teeth eagerly with a singular desire.

DEATH.

“K-kisama,” the ninja girl said, her hands trembling. “You, you filth, you gaijin, you... you touched Onee-Sama.”

“Oh shit.”

***

Big thanks to Blue Nine and Sammax! They helped with the grammar and wordings! But seriously, Blue Nine did work this chapter because he’s awesome.

Next chapter returns to a more familiar POV. I wanted Gallant for reasons.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter Forty-Five

The world shifted.

One moment she was stumbling back, Clockblocker of the Wards trying to tackle her. The next her foot landed behind her and she took two steps, her balance regained as if nothing had happened.

But things had, in fact, happened.

The first thing she noticed, the thing that was impossible not to notice, was... the sirens. Not Endbringer sirens, thank Scion, but car alarms and police sirens and the distinct sirens of PRT vehicles, all competing to be the noisiest thing on the street.

Then the stench hit her. Burning rubber, spent gunpowder... blood.

“What’s going on?” she said as she looked at the post-apocalyptic scene around her.

She didn’t have time to take much in.

“Onee-sama!” Pop was before her, arms wrapped around her waist and pulling her close in a vice-like hug. “Onee-sama, Onee-sama,” she repeated, each repetition harder to hear than the last. Her voice was broken by ugly, wracking sobs, her face lined with tears and puffy eyes and a leaky nose that all looked up to her with so much desperation.

“Pop?” she asked as she pulled the girl in closer for a hug. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I failed,” Pop wailed. “I’m sorry, Onee-sama. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, shush, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Taylor said.

It was not okay.

“Your sisters?” she asked. She was almost afraid to do so. What if Pop was like this because they had... had been hurt, or worse?

“Hey Big Sis,” Tattletail said. She sounded... contrite. “Uh, everyone’s okay. ‘Cept Pop. But she’ll get over it with enough hugs and stuff. You were out for nearly a whole minute.”

Taylor stood up. She wrapped one arm under Pop’s backside and another over the middle of her back so that she could carry her up. It was a little awkward, Pop being just a bit too old for it, but the way her little sister buried her crying face into the nook of Taylor’s neck said that she needed the close contact right then.

She did a quick count. Cheshire seemed fine. Her onesie was a bit dusty, but no worse for wear. She also had a crossbow she was petting fondly. Something to correct later.

Crochet was beaming at her, completely pristine, though that couldn’t be said of her two plushies who looked to have taken a beating.

Tattletail was trying to hide a gun behind her trench-coat until she noticed Taylor watching. She smiled sheepishly and flicked it aside. “Oops?”

And finally, Remedy was...

“What the hell?” Taylor asked.

Her little Remedy was standing between two xenomorphs, the skeletal, bony monsters twitching slightly, eyeless heads turning this way and that. “Ah, I can explain?” Remedy tried.

“I sure hope you can,” Taylor growled. She looked past her sisters, reassured for now that they were safe. “I sure hope you can,” she repeated as she looked past the circle of sisters who were all inching closer. “Fine, group hug?”

While she was busy being squished from every direction, Taylor took in the world around them.

This was going to be hard to explain.

The first thing she noticed were the two pancaked police cars off to one side and the sideways PRT van absolutely covered in white foam, a few arms and legs sticking out of the white gunk including one costumed backside.

Shadow Stalker was folded in half over a lamppost. Vista was laying on her back, her helmet visor cracked. Aegis was…. Well, one arm was not too far away, and there was a leg buried in the window of a shop across the street. His torso and head were doing a good job of painting the sidewalk red as he pulled himself along by his one functional limb like Anakin crawling out of lava, but bloodier.

Clockblocker was buried under a pile of cloth frozen a foot above the ground, a thousand ribbons tied all around him. His hands were still held out defensively in front of his face, as if warding off an attack.

Kid Win and Gallant were sitting next to each other a little ways down, backs against the wall of a jewelry store and Gallant’s arm around Kid Win’s back. The Tinker was crying over a board that was snapped in half at the middle.

“Okay girls, hugs are over for now,” Taylor said to a chorus of awws. She placed Pop down carefully and gave her another squeeze. “I’m not angry at you, Pop,” she said.

“But you’re disappointed and that’s worse,” the girl blubbered.

“No,” Taylor said with some force. “I’m no such thing. I love you, I love you so much that I would overlook any number of tiny mistakes you made. And this wasn’t one of them, okay?”

Pop nodded, but wasn’t meeting her eyes.

“Pop, who loves you the most?” Taylor asked the girl.

“Onee-sama does?” Pop asked.

Taylor grabbed her in another hug. “That’s right. Your Onee-sama loves you so much you can’t even begin to imagine, okay?”

“Okay, Onee-sama,” Pop said. Some of the tension in her shoulders had bled away.

“I need to talk to Aegis, I think,” Taylor said. “Remedy, look after Pop for a moment, okay? Be nice. Tattletail... yeah, come with me. Cheshire, you too. Crochet, guard your sisters while Remedy makes sure Pop isn’t hurt.”

“‘Kay Big Sis.”

“Of course Big Sis.”

She moved over to Aegis, aware for the first time that beyond the circle of destruction her sisters had wrought there were a lot of civilians with cameras out, taking pictures and filming the carnage. This was going to be all over the news if the PRT didn’t suppress it.

“Hey,” she told the mangled superhero by her feet. “Are you, uh, okay?”

Aegis flipped himself over and looked up at her. It sent a spray of arterial blood splashing past her, but none came close to her. “I’ve been better,” he said. “Ah, is this the part where the villain gloats?”

“I’m a superhero, actually,” she said. “Ah, so are my sisters.”

He blinked at her. “Oh?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She gestured at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ve had... not worse, but close. I’ll live?”

“Cool,” Taylor said. “Uh, this is a bit awkward.”

“A bit,” Aegis agreed.

“The Undersiders got away,” Tattletail piped up. “Personally, I’d say that the Wards are to blame for that.”

Taylor sighed. “Wonderful. So, uh, we’ll stop by the PRT eventually. Explain our side of things. Do you think that would be okay, or will we be attacked on sight?”

“You should be fine?” Aegis said.

“Need to get the media on our side first,” Tattletail said. “But yeah, we’ll be fine as long as everyone’s honest.”

“Great,” Taylor said. “Uh, see you later, I guess.”

“Right, later.” Aegis waved his one hand at her.

She nodded and moved past him. “We should, uh, head out.”

***

Next chapter will go back in time, sorta. It’s a PHO chapter, so we’ll see the fight from a more civilian viewpoint. Fun times ahead!

Usual thanks (Sammax and Eli and BlueNine this time!) and supplications to join my patreon, yadda yadda... ect.


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter Forty-Six

Lisa didn’t want to look. She really, really didn’t want to look. But Brian was sitting right next to her and had his eyes fixed on the screen of her laptop. Worse, Brian’s sister was also in the room, and also looking at the screen, though the expression she was wearing was entirely different from Brian’s.

On the ‘shit-eating to wanting to die’ scale, Aisha’s smug smile was definitely on the level of smug that even Lisa could admit was impressive.

It probably had something to do with her figuring out Brian’s secret, or her breaking into the loft, or the team being so beaten that at this point even her behaviour (all out of some misguided concern for her brother post-beating, of course) didn’t irritate them enough to kick her out.

“Well, here goes,” Lisa said.

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.  
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It took a few clicks to find the right thread, but it was right there, second from the top in the Brockton Bay section of the site.

♦ Topic: Robbery at Bay Central Bank  
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► News  
► AllThatsFitToPrint (Original Poster) (Journalist: BrocktonBayOnline)  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:

Breaking news!

At approximately 11:45 this morning (the 16th of February, 2011), a group of unknown parahumans marched into Brockton Bay Central. PHO user BrightFlare posted cellphone footage of the group here: LINK.

At approximately 11:50, after the group of young superheroines was repeatedly questioned by on-site security (and after they answered a few questions from the customers) the villainous group known as the Undersiders (ParaWiki: LINK) moved into the bank from the back and announced their arrival by taking all of the clients hostage.

The as of yet unnamed group of young parahumans confronted the Undersiders after which the villains tried to run. They failed and were apprehended by the young superheroines.

The villains were escorted out of the building where a confrontation with the Wards occurred. We believe that the second confrontation should be part of its own article which you can find HERE.

EDIT:  
A huge thank you to users Bizarre and GreatestOm for videos from different perspectives. LINK1 LINK2.

EDIT2:  
By popular demand we have a roster of the young capes with information displayed during the foiled robbery and later in the fight against the Wards. Their names were provided from questions by the customers before the robbery began.

Big Sister: The nominal leader of the group.  
Oldest-appearing member. Teenager. Wears an ill-fitting business suit with a domino mask. Powers unknown.

Crochet:  
Young. Possibly preteen. Wears a Victorian style dress with many ribbons. Has two large plushies that obey her commands. Powers similar to Parian also of Brockton Bay.

Cheshire:  
Young. Possibly preteen. Has a dark cat onesie. Has cat ears (possible case 53?) and a tail. Power unknown. Carries a dart blower.

Remedy:  
Young. Possibly preteen. White robe-like outfit, similar to Panacea from New Wave. Claims to be a biostriker. Can turn organic masses into xenomorphs (?).

Tattletail:  
Young. Possibly preteen. Case 53 with a ‘Sherlock’ style trench coat and fedora. Brown skirt and sweater. Claims to be psychic. Claim refuted by Big Sister. Possibly a Thinker.

Pop (Poppu?):  
Young. Possibly preteen. Obvious Asian heritage. Wears a Kimono (EDIT: Yukata?) and carries a short sword/knife. Can teleport and clone herself. Bears some resemblance to Oni Lee’s power.

(Viewing page 05 of 73)

► RedTen  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Their names aren’t really Tits, Goo, Regret and B-word. Right? Someone please tell me there’s not a group of joke villains in the Bay. Please? No one wants Mouse Protector to visit. Literally no one.

► Bizarre  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
I was there! I had my phone out. It’s a bit shaky but I’ll link the video.  
EDIT: LINK!

► MinimumSam  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
I finished updating the Undersider’s Parawiki articles with the villain’s known names. Is Hellhound’s new name B-Word or actually Bitch?

► PrayyoFoxes  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
OMG! They have a fox-girl detective loli! Brockton Bay is the greatest place.  
TinMother: Please don’t use that kind of language to refer to a real life person. Have some free infraction points.

► Phoenix  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
OMFG, the Undies got owned by little girls!

► You_Want_An_Acog  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Well I for one welcome our preschool overlords.

► FizzyFault  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Is it true that younger capes are stronger? Because damn. Also, this gives me so many fanfic ideas! Can you imagine the sort of banter that goes on in a team with someone called Regret and Tits? Wow.

► SaneSith  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
You have got to be kidding me. Pun not intended.  
What kind of idiot lets their child out to go fight a group of villains like that? Do they have any idea how likely it is that their kid will get hurt? The Wards and Youth Guard exist for a reason!  
EDIT: Having seen the confrontation with the Wards... I’m not sure how I feel about any of this.

► Clappie  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Aww, man, I used to be an undersiders fan, but, well, Tits. Yikes. Way to spit in the face of all the hard work feminist capes have put into making the parahuman world one with gender equality, you bitch.

< Last>>

“Goo,” Aisha said as she turned to her brother. Brian buried his face in his hands. “Your name is fucking Goo?!”

“It’s not Goo, it’s Grue,” Brian defended himself.

Aisha snorted. “Not anymore it isn’t. Goo. Hey, hey Goo, you got beat by some kids. Tits, play the video, I wanna see this in HD.”

Lisa sighed, but pressed play. She had lived through the events playing out on screen, but seeing it all in its 120p shaky cam glory had her wanting to die all over again. “At least we got away?” she said.

“If they had delivered us to the PRT we could have made a statement about the names,” Brian said.

“Not that it would do anything,” Aisha said. She paused, another grin sprouting across her features. “Goo.”

Lisa sobbed. “We could rebrand?” she squeaked even as her power told her of all the ways that wouldn’t work. She just knew the rule 34 stuff about her would be horrible from now on. So, so horrible.

***

I know you want to see the fight, and you will. There were two events that made a splash on PHO, so I decided to split them apart. The reason this chapter is delivered earlier in the week is because I know you guys have the patience of preschoolers that really need to pee. So I’m posting this now and the rest of the PHO stuff on Thursday as I would a normal chapter.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter Forty-Seven

Taylor raised herself up on the bench and scanned across the two rows of benches next to hers. A quick headcount that she was becoming increasingly familiar with showed that all of her little sisters were present and accounted for.

“It’s okay,” Tattletail said. “With Pop and Cheshire split apart they’re not as likely to get at each other. This is the optimal seating arrangement.”

Taylor didn’t know whether her youngest sister was right or not; Pop and Remedy were having a murmured conversation, and Cheshire was pouting while Crochet crocheted with a pair of big needles. So far there hadn’t been any disasters and the most she could say about the others on the bus was that they were curious but wary of approaching them. That had to be good enough.

“Here,” Tattletail said as she pulled out a smartphone from an inner pocket. A few presses later and it was on the homepage of PHO. “This’ll help. You can see the public’s reaction, and since the PRT needs the public to endorse them this keeps us all safe.”

“Do I want to know where you got this?” Taylor asked as she hefted the phone.

“You really don’t.”

Eyes were narrowed in what Taylor was beginning to think of as her ‘Big Sis isn’t dealing with this crap’ face.

“Heh,” Tattletail said, her smug little smile turning a little brittle. “I, uh, I’m gonna go check on the others?”

She rolled her eyes but let the girl go. She had plenty of things to worry about, and her sister’s potential kleptomania didn’t even factor into the top ten.

She turned the screen to check it out.

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.  
You are currently logged in, KidWinOfficial  
You are viewing:  
• Threads you have replied to  
• AND Threads that have new replies  
• OR private message conversations with new replies  
• Thread OP is displayed.  
• Ten posts per page  
• Last ten messages in private message history.  
• Threads and private messages are ordered chronologically.

Or maybe, she thought, the kleptomania was a bigger worry than she originally thought. She turned the phone over this way and that, but it looked like a perfectly ordinary smartphone. Then again, maybe the Ward just owned a normal phone. She was going to have to give this back.

Finding the right thread was easy as pie. It was trending on the front page of PHO as one of the most viewed threads in North America. She groaned.

♦ Topic: Wards Vs. Unidentified Hero Team  
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► News  
► AllThatsFitToPrint (Original Poster) (Journalist: BrocktonBayOnline)  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:

Breaking news!

Today at approximately 11:55am the Wards ENE arrived at Brockton Bay Central Bank, presumably to respond to the robbery taking place at that same establishment. This robbery (Full article available here: LINK) was foiled by an as-of-yet unnamed group of parahumans with six members who subdued and captured the villainous group known as the Undersiders. For additional details, view the roster link below.

When the group of young superheroines moved out of the bank with their villainous captures in tow, they were met by the local Wards who, after a very rapid and brief exchange, attacked the superheroines.

The scuffle was captured on cellphone cameras. Footage links available below. Within the (approx.) 52 seconds that the battle took place, all six members of the local Wards were injured, incapacitated or otherwise removed from action. Later reports from the PRT claim that there were no major injuries save those suffered by Aegis of the Wards.

What does this mean for the local Wards and Protectorate? Should this group of young heroines be more cautious with their dealings with the law from now on? Do the Wards need additional supervision? No one quite knows and the PRT is being close-lipped about it so far, calling the incident an “unfortunate misunderstanding exacerbated by a group of vigilantes’ inability to communicate through proper channels” (LINK to primary statement).

Cell footage:  
LINK LINK LINK  
Cell footage mirror 2:  
LINK LINK LINK  
Footage Mirror 3 (Edit: to those issuing takedowns of the footage, please contact our legal office through official channels);  
LINK LINK LINK LINK

EDIT: The PRT has made an official request that we remove all videos pertaining to the fight as it endangers the identities of the local Wards. They have threatened legal action against our team if we fail to comply. Seeing as we couldn’t afford that kind of legal battle we will cease adding new links, though the footage should be widely distributed by now.

Undersider Roster Parawiki Links:  
GOO | TITS | B-WORD | REGRET  
Unnamed Group Parawiki Links:  
BIG SIS | CROCHET | CHESHIRE | TATTLETAIL | REMEDY | POP

***

Taylor sat back and let the rumble of the bus distract her for a moment before she glanced at her sisters. They were all behaving, mostly. A couple of teens had moved closer and were chatting with them and asking for signatures. It seemed that they were busy bugging each other about how ugly their handwriting was.

So far the news was positive, she guessed. There was a bit of anti-PRT spin in the article that certainly gave her some hope that they would get the upper hand in any PR mess, but that didn’t tell her much about the people’s mood.

She pulled up the phone again.

(Viewing page 09 of 426)

► Hentai Princess  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Can someone break down who took out who in the fight? Everything happens too fast!

► FenixNeedsPrayers  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
OMG, that Ward in blue got stomped! Poor Shadow Stalker too.

► ShandoMan  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Mess with big sis, get the big fist. But really, what were the wards thinking? Shouldn’t they have seen that the brat brigade were the good guys here?

► AnEldritch1  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Brockton Bay Brat Brigade! I like it. Also, did you see the undies running away off screen? That’s four villains that were outright captures and that got away because of the wards. damn.

► Zwei  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Wait, what happened? With the first video links I mean.

► HotDogPants  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
What happened is the PRT tried to block the video links because they ‘endangered’ the identities of the local Wards. Which is obvious bull. They’re just trying to cover their screw up.

► SteamHeart  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
I refuse to believe, absolutely REFUSE to believe that the way Tattletail moves isn’t some sort of combat Thinker bullshit. She walked over to Tits, pulled a gun out of her costume, then spun around and shot Kid Win TWICE from across and entire street, WHILE HER COAT FLARED LIKE SOME ACTION HERO NOIR BULLSHIT. That both shots landed on KW’s board, or that she stole his laser pistol and took out Vista with it are completely secondary to the fact that she used her power to look cool doing it.

► Miss Yog  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Okay kiddies, hang on to your panties ‘cause mama Yog has a point tally for you!  
Vista: Taken out by Tattletail with the assist going to Kid Win and his blaster pistol. Our favourite space warper is not laser-proof.  
Kid Win: Became Kid Lost when Tattletail shot him down. He cried.  
Aegis: Pissed off Pop, got the chop. The brute was *brutally* cut apart by the little ninja.  
Shadow Stalker: Can’t really see most of the fight from any of the camera angles available. Lots of darts and crossbow bolts flying around, then she ends up folded on a lamppost like something out of loony toons. Cheshire gets the win.  
ClockBlocker: Messed with Crochet. Got plushied.  
Browbeat: Managed to corner Crochet for a few seconds and had her backing off. Good for him. Then Remedy returned with some duck mothering xenomorphs and flung him into an expanding mound of con-foam  
Gallant: Tried his lasers on Pop. Failed. Got slapped around a bit then punted off screen by a plushie.  
And our favourite boys in black: The PRT troopers moved in with Con-foam containers and started spraying. A xenomorph flung a police car at them, another spat on a tank and that was it for them.  
The MVP today is... Remedy! For making Xenomorph pals and taking out not just the good guy wards, but also the good guy troopers.

► RandoBoy  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
How can you guys be so calm? There's a biotinker right THERE. And she’s got no control. You should be evacuating the city, not laughing at the heroes.

► General_Sink  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
I made a gif of Crochet when she was done with ClockBlocker. Look at that self-satisfied little grin! She’s so proud of her hard work! Thanks Miss Yog for the caption help! Get Plushied!

< Last>>

***

(Viewing page 426 of 426)

► 247TheGeek  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
That’s because they have next to no real supervision. It’s all PR training and nothing else.

► Arc (Banned)  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
[Comment Deleted]  
TinMother: This thread, I swear. Don’t lewd the children you morons. It’s not just disgusting, it's illegal. Have some bans.

► KnightofAngels  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Oh come on, the Wards aren’t that bad! Vista is cute!

► B.A.Christ  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Just because a ward is cute doesn’t mean the system isn’t broken. Cuteness is not a measure of success. Er-- well, it’s not usually a measure of success.

► SubjectAlpha  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Honestly, I don’t know what the PRT’s actions from here on out will be, and yes, I do mean the PRT. The Wards ENE were moved from the Protectorate to the PRT a few months ago citing ‘ease of access’ with their Headquarters being in the city proper instead of out in the Bay. Rumour at the time was that there were some administrative problems too, but no one raised enough of a fuss for anyone to get to the bottom of it.  
Anyway~ Point is, this entire mess can be laid squarely at the feet of the PRT. Sure, the Brat Brigade should have come out screaming that they were the good guys and maybe they should have called it in, but their actions up to ClockBlocker tagging Big Sis were perfectly reasonable. They were victorious heroes escorting the bad guys out of the Bank and into custody, then things went tits up (pun not intended) because the Wards have no self control. It’s a bad precedent to set.

► KingofSkulls  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
BBBB merch when? I want a Get Plushied shirt. And a Tattletail action figure. And a Cheshire plushie. And a Pop bread knife. And Remedy band-aids like the Panacea ones.

► SkitterWeaver  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
All I hear are people complaining about the Wards, but the Wards are the ones with the legal right to be there helping, not the Brats. The level of violence the Brats showed was way out of proportion. You can’t just escalate like that.

► PonyWriter  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
So what? Now we need to wait for legal documents every time we need saving? Dafuq? Get your PRT fanboy pants off and look at those videos. The Wards were the aggressors here. They should be arrested for assault.

► Philosophy  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
Man, I keep trying to see the videos but the mirrors aren’t working. Weird that they’re not doing anything about the memes.

► Magic_Up_Above  
Replied on February 16th, 2011:  
You can’t do anything about memes. Doing something about a meme makes the meme more powerful.

***

Taylor lowered the phone and thunked her head against the backrest. This entire thing was a mess.

The bus pulled to a squealing stop and a bunch of people stood up, her sisters included. Turning her head to the side, Taylor took in the building they were about to visit. From this close, the PRT Headquarters was a huge, intimidating monolith.

“Don’t worry, Big Sis,” Crochet said. “We’ll be with you.”


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter Forty-Eight

Hannah rushed down the flight of stairs, jumped past a few staff members who stared at her wide-eyed, then stopped before the doors that would lead her to the lobby. She panted, heart racing for a few long moments as it went from beating humming-bird fast to a slower, more natural cadence.

It just wouldn’t do to appear frazzled to a bunch of kids.

She made sure her weapon was no bigger than a knife tucked in a back pocket of her costume and that sure her scarf was on just right. It was the reason why all the side entrances to the main lobby had mirrors. It wouldn’t do for the public to see dishevelled heroes.

She pushed the door open and walked into a scene of quiet tension.

PRT Troopers, some in their bulky armour, some in a more civilian appropriate police-like garb, were stationed all around the room, some standing closer to the doors, others trying to be inconspicuous as they guided tourists away from the lobby and to exits out the back.

And in the centre of the room, right where everybody would see them, six young parahumans. 

“Um, we come in peace?” the tallest of the lot said.

There was a slight lessening of tensions at that. Miss Militia decided that it was as good a time as any to step up. “Calm down everyone, I’m sure the Brigade aren’t here to harm anyone,” she said. 

The tall girl, Big Sis according to what she had read after briefing the Wards, blinked at her. “Ah, that’s right. But, the Brigade?”

“It’s what the internet has taken to calling you.” Really it was the Brat Brigade, but bringing that up while tourists were filming was a bad idea. Miss Militia smiled and hoped that it looked disarming. “Can the PRT help you this afternoon?” she asked.

Big Sis nodded. “I, yes, yes you can. I wanted to, um, talk about the bank incident? I was told that it would be for the best if I came here and made it clear that we, uh, didn’t have any ill will toward the PRT. Maybe, maybe look into the Wards program?”

Miss Milita’s next smile was far, far easier. “Of course. I happen to know that the director is here already. Did you want to follow me into the building? We could see if she’s available to talk, and if not I’m certain we can find a place for you to sit and relax.”

“Ah, that’s not a good idea,” Big Sis said. “My siste-- my partners here are not the sitting and relaxing sort. Maybe if it was just me and Tattletail?” 

Miss Militia looked between her and the five other girls gathered around her. The little ones were already fretting and bouncing on the spot or glaring at the nearest Troopers while fondling knives. 

“Do they want to stay here?” Miss Militia asked. “Someone could keep an eye on them?”

“That might be for the best,’ a familiar voice said from behind her. She turned to find Colin, Armsmaster as he was suited up, moving over to her. “So many parahumans visiting the Director all at once would be inadvisable.”

“Great!” Big Sis said. “Thank you so much for agreeing to babysit, Miss Militia.”

“Indeed,” Armsmaster answered for her while her mind was still reeling. “Come with me.”

The dour Tinker spun on a heel and walked away, Big Sis and Tattletail following after him.

Miss Militia turned to the other girls. Crochet and Remedy were smiling at her. The other two were missing. “Where are--? she began in a panic before Crochet pointed off towards the gift shop. Cheshire was currently comparing the crossbow she reportedly stole from Shadow Stalker to one of the plastic replicas displayed in the shop. “Oh, well, did you want to join her?”

The girls were off like missiles. 

She had to admit, it was cute seeing how enthusiastic they were about hero things. She loved working with kids! They were always so full of energy.

Her enthusiasm died a sad, pitiful death when she saw that Crochet was animating all of the plushies at once and giggling as they fought in a mock battle. Remedy, fortunately, was merely trying on all of the fake hero masks one at a time until she gasped and ran to the affiliates’ corner and found a Glory Girl mask which she immediately put on.

Pop was... “Where’s Pop?” Miss Militia asked.

“Who the fuck cares?” Cheshire said before firing a bolt, a live bolt across the room and pinning one of Crochet’s Vista plushies though the head.

“Dearest sister,” Crochet said in a sickly sweet voice. “You are aware that this means war.”

An army of plushies ambled across the room like some sort of nightmarish superheroic version of Winnie the Pooh, all intent on getting to Cheshire who began firing plastic bolts at them, bolts that that the same physics bending properties as Shadow Stalker’s and which more often than not pinned themselves through the floor.

Miss Militia rushed over to them, then ducked when a bolt went flying her way. She had to stop this, she had to stop this now.

“Hey, don’t get in the way of my bullets!” Cheshire shouted before kicking the head off a plush Gallant. 

Miss Militia turned, only to pause in horror as Remedy, still wearing a plastic mold of Victoria Dallon’s face, was holding up a potted plant that had been decorating one corner of the room. The flowers had been replaced by small, mewling puppies. “These would sell way better.”

Hannah had, at one time, wanted to have kids. Now her ovaries were shrivelling up in terror. 

***


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter Forty-Nine

Armsmaster led Taylor and Tattletail into an elevator, then up two floors, the digital display above them dinging twice before the doors opened again onto a long, wide corridor with stations on either side. There was an obvious metal detector being manned by a bored looking PRT employee and two guards standing nearby with containment foam launchers and what she suspected was a perfectly usable shotgun.

Armsmaster waved a card to the man behind the metal detector and moved through it without so much as a beep. “Please place any weapons you have in that bin,” Armsmaster instructed as he gestured to a plastic bin off to the side. “Then proceed through the machine.”

Taylor, who had no weapons on her, started to move, then noticed with mounting horror that Tattletail was moving towards the bin. She began to reach into her coat, then paused and looked at Armsmaster. “If we have weapons they’ll be returned, right?” she asked.

The Tinker nodded once. “Yes. They are merely being kept to ensure the safety of PRT personnel. This is part of our standard operating procedures.”

“And if we have Tinkertech it will be given back, right?”

Now Armsmaster looked interested. He leaned forwards a little. “Does your group have a Tinker?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Taylor said. “Crochet’s the only one that makes stuff, and that’s mostly reserved for costumes and clothing and sometimes plushies. No Tinkertech.”

He leaned back. “I see. In any case, yes, your Tinkertech will be returned promptly.”

“And you won’t scan it and look at it too hard and try to pry it apart?” Tattletail asked as if to make really sure.

“We wouldn’t do that, no. It would go against regulations and some Tinkers have been known to employ dangerous anti-tampering measures in their equipment. Unless the Tinkertech you have presents an imminent danger to everyone in the vicinity it will be treated as a normal weapon.”

“Good, good,” Tattletail said. Then she pulled out a blaster pistol from her jacket, a big, bulbous gun that looked like it had been designed in the height of the 50s art-deco era. It was also, Taylor recognized, obviously Kid Win’s gun.

“That,” Armsmaster said, “is not yours.” 

“Yes it is,” Tattletail said.

He stared off to the side and then scowled. “You might believe it is yours, but it is not.”

Tattletail huffed and crossed her arms. “It is mine. I obtained it fair and square.”

“Oh no,” Taylor whispered.

Armsmaster stood taller. “That belongs to Kid Win and, by association, to the Protectorate.”

“It belongs to me,” Tattletail said.

“A cursory inspection would prove otherwise.”

“You just said you wouldn’t do that. And anyway, it’s obviously mine. Kid Win’s laser pistol things don’t have glitter on them.” She reached into the bin and pulled out the gun by the barrel and waved it around, her free hand pointing at all the sparkly bits on it. “And this one has a unicorn sticker on the handle.”

The Protectorate Tinker made a noise, then shut his mouth with a clack and worked his jaw. “Theft is a crime,” he said slowly, as if explaining something to a child, which to be fair, he sort of was.

“Crimes are only crimes if you get caught and the crime can be proved in a court of law. Unicorn stickers, ergo not theft, ergo not a crime,” Tattletail said with the same slow pace. She grinned up at Armsmaster, her tail wagging behind her with self-satisfied glee.

“Nonetheless, that is property of the Protectorate East North East,” Armsmaster said with mounting anger. 

“You wanna take it from me?” Tattletail asked. Her grin grew sharper. “Fine, then come and take it. I won’t even resist.” She hugged the gun close to her chest, then bit into a knuckle until her eyes filled with tears.

“What are you doing?” Armsmaster asked.

Then a group of tourists rounded the corner, two dozen people with cameras who were taking in the ever dull-grey corridor of the base and flashing pictures at every poster and plaque on the walls as if they were art pieces. The whole group gasped as they saw Taylor and Tattletail.

“Y-you wanna take my toy?” Tattletail blubbered. The first tear came sliding down her cheek. 

“What? It’s not yours!” Armsmaster said. Then he noticed the cameras pointed his way. “What are you doing here? This area should be secured.”

The tour guide started to sweat. “We’re on schedule. It’s supposed to be cleared here. We’ll move things along. Come on everyone, this is important Protectorate work, we shouldn’t interrupt.”

“You, you big meanie!” Tattletail yelled. “You’re just taking my things because you’re a big doo-doo head.”

“I’m not. It’s not yours,” Armsmaster said as he turned back to her.

“Yes it is! You’re not Armsmaster, you’re... Buttmaster! ‘Cause you’re a big butt.” Tattletail’s entire face was screwed up in a mix of anger and sadness, her ears were drooping down and her tail was dragging on the ground behind her.

There was muffled giggling from the tourists, most of whom were ignoring the demands to move along from the guide in favour of filming the confrontation. Stil, with some pushing and shoving they got moving. 

The moment the last of them turned around the corner Tattletail stood taller and wiped her face clean with a palm. Her tail began to wag again. “Try taking my gun now, Buttmaster.” 

Taylor sighed, yoinked the gun out of her hands and passed it to Armsmaster. “I’m terribly sorry, but we accidentally found this weapon and have no idea how or where we found it. Could you dispose of it for us, please?” she asked as she held the pistol out between them.

“Big Sis! I earned that gun fair and square,” Tattletail screeched. 

Taylor shook her head and as soon as Armsmaster had taken the gun she turned towards Tattletail. “We have a ‘no weapons in the house’ rule for a reason,” she said. Tattletail looked up to her, eyes filled with unshed tears. “And wipe that look off your face, missy, no one will believe you now.”

“You’re no fun,” she grumbled as she looked away. “Fine. Can we keep moving now? If I can’t get to keep my gun at least we should move things along to get home faster.”

Taylor sighed, but she couldn’t help but agree. It was best to get things done before all of her bridges were burned. “Let’s just meet the director.”

***

Okay, next time we’ll actually get to Piggot, I swear.

Shout out to BlueNine and the other crazies who helped with the words in this chapter!


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty

Director Piggot was one of the strangest women Taylor had ever seen. She was short, and what some polite people would have called stout. But Taylor spent too much time around preteens to call her anything but fat, at least in the privacy of her own head. 

“Please sit,” the woman demanded, the ‘please’ a formality as she gestured to a chair across from hers. 

The conference room was fairly small. Just a rectangular room with a windowed door and a long rectangular table with chairs on either side. There was a jug with icy water sitting in the middle next to a tray of social cookies. 

Tattletail pounced onto one of the chairs and made herself comfortable while Taylor took her time and sat next to her. She was ready to grab Tattletail’s hand the moment she reached for the cookies. The little fox-girl had definitely not earned any snacks. 

“Uh, hi, I’m Big Sister. This is Tattletail.”

“Hi fat lady,” Tattletail said.

Piggot didn’t so much as twitch. “Are you a Master?” she asked as she moved some papers across the surface of the table. Her thumb clicked on the back of a pen and she looked up, meeting Taylor’s eyes dead on.

“What? No, no I’m not,” Taylor said.

Piggot looked past her to Armsmaster, then nodded. “I see. Good. We will still have our work cut out for us once you join the Wards,” she said.

“Ah, okay?” Taylor said. So it was straight to business then. She wasn’t expecting that, but maybe that was the whole purpose of it. Not messing around meant less time for Taylor to find her footing. 

“I’m assuming you’re aware of the benefits of joining the Wards?” Piggot said. “Oversight, protection both in and out of your heroic identities and a fixed salary for the work you would be doing for us.”

“Actually-”

“You do understand how much danger you and your group are in?” Piggot said. “You may have made fools of the Wards, and we will be discussing your behaviour during that fiasco in a moment, but those same Wards are protected at home and even during their work. Can you say the same?”

“I don’t think that’s--”

“And what of the parents of these girls, are they aware of how much danger you’re dragging--”

Taylor’s hand slammed into the table, cutting off Piggot’s diatribe. “Stop, or I will join the Wards.”

Piggot took a moment to digest that. “Not the most straight forward threat I have ever received,” she said. “Care to explain yourself?”

“I’ve looked at the things the Wards offer and unfortunately it’s not enough to meet our needs. In the best of circumstances it would work out, barely, but I’ve done my research and Tattletail helped me predict some things.” Taylot shook her head. “Joining the Wards would cause a lot more trouble for us than it would solve things. It would only make our family’s situation worse.”

Piggot leaned back into her seat and seemed to judge her for some time. “You’re surprisingly level-headed.”

“Did you expect me to be a raving lunatic?” Taylor asked. “I spend my day wrangling my sisters, all of whom have superpowers and next to no restraint. I think I do as much to keep this city from burning down as you do.”

“You’re no longer inspiring confidence,” Piggot said. 

Taylor took a deep breath to recentre herself, but the scent of antibacterials and printer paper that permeated the office only reminded her that she wasn’t home. “Look, Miss... Director Piggot, we came here to say sorry for the thing with the Wards. It shouldn’t have gotten out of hand, and I wanted to say sorry, at least in private. But we can’t join your team for a bunch of reasons. And we also wanted to tell you that we’re going to become rogues in Brockton Bay.”

Shaking her head, Piggot scooted around on her chair with a wince and then wiggled a fat finger towards Taylor. “I can’t force you to join the Wards willingly, but it’s my responsibility to keep this city safe from any harm caused by Parahumans, including your little team.”

“You haven’t been doing you job very well, then,” Taylor said.

There was a moment of tense silence as both sides digested that. 

Taylor sat up a little straighter. A week ago, she wouldn’t have dared face the Director of the PRT like this. A month ago she would have been crippled by some weird mixture of shyness and fear. Now, after weeks of getting her superpowered little sisters to behave, she was a new woman. Or maybe that was too much. It was probably safer to say that she felt the weight of the responsibility she had for her sisters pressing down on her at the same time as the love they had for her made her feel more... everything. Confident, capable, able to bully a mean adult into submission. 

“Look, Director. We want to help, but we’re not ready to. Not now, and probably not for years. My sisters need to grow up a whole lot more before they can help. And that means that they need to learn how to do the things that will allow them to help now. We’re forming a team and we’re going to be rogues. Crochet wants to sell dresses, Cheshire and Pop want to protect the city, Remedy agreed to help Panacea on her tours for some money, and Tattletail will put those cookies back right now or so help me god.”

Her sister ‘eeped’ and shoved the plate back so hard it almost slid off the table before Piggot caught it. 

“And none of that could be done from within the Wards?”

“Not the way the Wards work, no,” Taylor said. “You could try to force some of us to join. But then I’d make sure that all of us joined too.”

One of Piggot’s eyebrows shot up. “I fail to see how that’s a threat.”

“Imagine a dozen really aggravating Wards that fight you over every single order and decision and who are constantly questioning you and your inability to act publicly.” Taylor shook her head again. “You either let us do our own thing, play and have fun and maybe we’ll bag a few villains for you to allow to escape later. Or we join you and make your life a nightmare.”

“We’ve dealt with belligerent Wards before,” Piggot said. There was a slight twitch as she said it, and if Taylor was one to judge, and she was, the woman was merely probing to see if Taylor was bluffing.

Typical little sister tactic. She wondered if Piggot had any older siblings.

“Tattletail can’t keep secrets,” Taylor said.

“Armsmaster has a lie detector in his hat,” Tattletail chimed in. She had been fidgeting more and more on her seat, like a kettle shaking before it blew up. “Piggot doesn’t like Parahumans. She’s fat because of some sickness. She really doesn’t like one of our sisters... I think it’s Remedy and that’s why she’s being extra mean. She doesn’t care about the Wards but wants them under her thumb because not having control over them scares her. She’s embarrassed about the Wards losing more than about them fighting us.” Tattletail took in a deep gulp of air. “She wants a drink but the kind that Big Sis won’t let us have at home and she thinks Big Sis is very level headed but is planning on letting us get into a bunch of trouble before nailing us like when Big Sis watches one of us do something wrong so that she can catch us red-handed. She was super insulted that Big Sis pointed out how bad she is at her job but didn’t say anything because she knows it’s true. She doesn’t know how Big Sis’ power works and that’s making her nervous and can I have those cookies now?”

Taylor reached up and patted Tattletail on the head a few times. “Good job,” she said, upon which her sister beamed. “Now, that’s one sister. Crochet hates violence, she would probably avoid every training session if she can. Cheshire and Pop think that shooting or stabbing things is the best solution to everything. Remedy just does not understand how scary her creations look to others and gets extremely upset when she’s told she can’t make them because it makes her feel worthless. And don’t forget, none of them have hit puberty yet.” 

Piggot swallowed, just a small thing, but a sign of nervousness that Taylor latched onto.

Taylor leaned forwards until her elbows were on the table. “Now, if we joined the Wards you’d need to deal with all of that. And, in the not-so-impossible scenario where one of my sisters got hurt because of your incompetence, you would have to deal with me.”

***


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter Fifty-One

Taylor walked out of the conference room, one hand holding onto Tattletail and the other shaking inside of her suit jacket.

The tension leaving her body was like... nothing she had ever felt before. Oh, sure, she’d had adrenaline highs before, more of them in the past few weeks than any other time in her life, but never just from a conversation.

“You did really good, Big Sis,” Tattletail said.

“Well,” Taylor corrected. She gave her foxiest little sister a shaky smile, then, because she felt like it, pulled her close to her side. “Thanks.”

“It’ll be okay. We only have one more big thing today. Just one, and we’ll be okay.” Tattletail’s efforts to comfort her were mostly in vain, but were appreciated nonetheless.

“Right,” Taylor said. She started walking a little faster until they reached the elevators which automatically started descending to the first floor. “I’m... glad I have so many good little sisters. You guys are great, you know?” she said to a beaming Tattletail. “Chaotic, bratty, annoying, but still great. I’m glad that you’re all around even if it means days like today sometimes.”

The doors opened to reveal chaos.

There were plushies running around, some missing large chunks of their bodies and dropping bits of fluff the way someone might imagine soldiers bleeding out on a battlefield. Arrows stuck out of the ground here and there as if they had been melted into the marble, and a pair of PRT troopers were trying to wrangle a plant while another plant ran across the lobby on two dozen doggy legs, the pot it was planted in scraping across the ground as it barked with all seven of its heads.

“What the--” Taylor began. Then she saw the likely culprits standing off to one side, three very angry-looking girls and a small army of plushies and potted plants with doggy heads facing off against a frazzle-haired Miss Militia.

Taylor dropped Tattletail’s hand and stomped across the room.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Cheshire was saying. “You ain’t the boss of me. You’re not my mom.”

“I might not be, but you can’t just... live fire a weapon like that, it’s dangerous,” Miss Militia was saying.

“I can do what I want,” Cheshire shot right back. “You can’t stop me.”

Remedy, who for some reason was wearing a plastic Glory Girl mask, and Crochet, who was hugging a knife wielding Armsmaster plushie to her chest, both nodded. “You were very rude,” Crochet said.

“I wasn’t rude, I just didn’t want you to, to do this,” Miss Militia gestured wildly to the lobby, then locked eyes on Taylor.

“Crochet, drop the plushies,” Taylor snapped. “Remedy, those plants had better be compost in the next three minutes or you’ll be the one living in a pot. Cheshire, get those arrows out of the ground, and give Miss Militia back that crossbow, it’s not yours.”

“But she’s a bitch, and I won this,” Cheshire said.

Taylor felt her entire face twitch. “You will give that back and get to work cleaning up your mess right away or so help me god I will bend you over my knee and spank you in front of the entire PRT. Do you understand?” Cheshire started nodding frantically. “Now apologize to Miss Militia.”

“I’m sorry Miss Militia. You’re an okay hero. Give this back to the shadow bi--gger girl that was very nice.” Cheshire pushed the crossbow into Miss Militia’s unresisting grasp and shot off to do as she was told.

“Where’s Pop?” Taylor asked.

She saw the heroine’s eyes widen, but her response was cut off as the littlest ninja appeared by her side. “I am here, onee-sama.” She smiled the way someone who wasn’t a serial killer in the making would smile. “I have caused no trouble.”

Taylor doubted it.

She turned to Miss Militia and smiled as warmly as she could. The superheroine took a small step back, hugging the crossbow close to her chest. “I appreciate you looking after my sisters. It’s awfully kind of you,” she said.

“How do you do it?” Miss Militia said.

Taylor blinked. “Do what?” Taylor noticed the time on a wall-mounted clock before Miss Militia had time to elaborate. “Never mind. Everyone, we’re going, hurry up!” she snapped.

Taylor snorted at the troopers that snapped to attention at the sound of her voice and shook her head. Moments later she was surrounded by a sea of little sisters.

“Okay, we’re heading out now. So, ah, bye.” She had another appointment to make, and she didn’t want to be around when someone started throwing blame for the mess.

Miss Militia just stared at her as she left, something like a mixture of awe and terror in her eyes. Poor woman was probably a single child, Taylor assumed.

Taylor made a quick headcount, tore a toy crossbow out of Cheshire’s grasp to toss it into the chest of a PRT trooper that fumbled, then caught it, then nodded to herself. All accounted for. Everything was well and good in the world.

“I need to pee.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Onee-sama, that man is looking at you strangely. May I take his eyes?”

All well and good.

“Okay, come on everyone, hold it in and stop grumbling, we have a bus to catch. Don’t worry, there are bathrooms and food where we’re going.”

One last stop, and then they were home, and she could lock herself in her room for at least twenty minutes until Pop teleported in, or Cheshire phased through the door, or Remedy made some unholy lock-picking monster.

She couldn’t wait.

***

Headpats for Eli and BlueNine who fixed my poopy grammar!


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter Fifty-Two

Taylor wasn’t a very cool girl. She knew it, had the proof smeared in her face a whole lot at school, and had grown to accept the fact that she was just not ‘cool’ like some of the other girls around her.

Her sisters seemed to disagree, but always while failing to meet her eyes. Except for Cheshire, who was brutal with her honesty.

Still, Taylor could recognize a cool place when she saw it. Usually it was a place where she wasn’t.

The Palanquin was a cool place. The building had once been a theater way back when, with a huge brick facade and a large marquee out front. That had been replaced with a simpler front; still bricks, but now there were modern stainless steel pillars rising out of the ground to hold up a far simpler roof over the entrance. The windows were bricked up, but it was done in such a way that it left her wanting to know what was inside.

The two burly bouncers by the front doors, both in tailored suits, made the place feel exclusive and dangerous. Even the sign with the name, just the letters cut out of simple steel in large blocky letters, betrayed a sense of... ‘screw you, this is our place.’

Taylor assumed that she would have the right words to describe it all if she were also cool.

She licked her lips, made sure that she had five little sisters around her, and then crossed the street. The bit of jaywalking she did was hopefully the only crime she was committing that day.

The two men by the door tensed up a little. Sure, Taylor was a teen and her sisters were... little, but they were all in costume, which meant that they were, on some level, dangerous. She smacked Cheshire’s hand out of her nose. “I, ah, we have an appointment?” she asked.

This was it, the moment she learned if one of her plans had panned out.

The man nodded. “Come on in,” he said as he opened the door.

She expected loud bass and some impossibly chaotic music, but was surprised to hear smooth jazz being played just loud enough to be heard over the background. The lights were on, allowing her to see the hardwood dance floor and the raised areas all around it where chairs and tables were waiting for clients.

A bar at the back sat unoccupied, but she could imagine two or three well-dressed bartenders working the taps. Or whatever it was bartenders did.

Her target, her client, was sitting at a table off to one side, nursing a glass of clear liquid and ice while talking to someone she had been meaning to meet. He was a simple enough looking man, with a receding hairline and a crooked nose as if he had never healed right from a blow to the face.

The woman next to him had her entire face covered by a welder’s mask, eyes almost impossible to see behind the dark tint of her visor.

“Behave,” Taylor warned her sisters as she brought them all to the table. “Hello,” she said.

What followed was a weak chorus of shy ‘hi’s and boisterous ‘hey’s’ and one ‘Konnichiwa.’

“Girls,” Taylor said, “why don’t you take a seat at that table over there?” She pointed to a table only a few steps away. A few of her sisters listened right away, but Crochet looked up to her with a look of distress.

“Big Sis, I need the little girl’s room.”

Taylor missed the days where she could make an entrance, then remembered that those days never existed. “Fine, but don’t go alone,” she said. Then she had to choose a sister to go with her which was an entire fiasco before she noticed Cheshire’s legs bouncing. “Chesh, do you need the bathroom?”

“No,” Cheshire said too quickly.

Taylor sighed. “Go with Crochet.” She turned to the two adults who were staring at her, Faultline with her expression quite literally masked and the man with a genial smile on his face.

“I have two daughters and a son,” he said by way of explanation. “I know what it’s like.”

Taylor sagged a little. “Oh, good. Um, my name is Big Sister, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said before extending a hand to shake, then lowering it. “Ah, you’re not a parahuman, right?” she asked. She already had a gurgling weight in the pit of her stomach, she didn’t need a disaster to happen.

“I’m not,” he said. “Is that an issue?”

Taylor shook her head and brought her hand up. “I’m a Trump. My power only works when I touch a parahuman, but I can’t really turn it off. Hence the question.”

“Fair enough,” he said as he shook. “I’m Martin, Martin Anderson from Anderson-Jacques Advertising. We’re the biggest pro-parahuman advertising firm on the East Coast, but I suspect you did your research.”

“I did,” Taylor said before turning to Faultline. She nodded to the woman and got a nod in return.

“Hello, I’m Faultline,” the woman said, her voice much smoother than Taylor expected. “Pleasure to meet you. Though you are paying me for the opportunity.”

“I am,” Taylor said. “Right, let’s get straight to business then?” She pulled a seat back and sat down, then checked on her sisters. Three of them were sitting at their own table, Remedy playing with the little potted plant in the middle of the table, Tattletail looking her way, and Pop sitting stock-still on her seat. Her other two sisters were... talking to a girl Taylor recognized from her research into Faultline’s crew. “Right, well, we, that is, my sisters and I, need work. We only have so many hours we can give you a day, we have a curfew, and we need to be paid very well.”

Martin’s eyebrows shot up. “Quite the difficult employees,” he said.

“No,” Faultline disagreed. “They’re parahumans, those requirements are actually pretty straightforward.”

Taylor nodded, suddenly very glad she had hired the woman to act as a consultant, even if it meant she would be leaving entirely penniless. All the stipulations she had would be tossed out of the window if it meant enough money being sent her way, but she couldn’t let that show. “We would also prefer work that isn’t violent,” Taylor added.

“I see. Well, to be frank, your team is quite honestly a golden opportunity. Put any one of them in a mascot costume and people would flock to them on social media. Have them show up for a little show before any store and I can almost guarantee the store would make up any capital spent on advertising within the hour. One product endorsement by a girl as cute as your sisters could be worth a fortune if marketed properly. Not to mention the branding.”

“Um,” Taylor said. “That sounds like a lot of good things?” she said.

Martin grinned. “Let’s face it, I could hardball you, but you wouldn’t appreciate it and there are other firms out there. The sooner I can get you and your sisters out there working for us the sooner I can get a leg up on the competition. Do you know how restrictive Wards advertising is because of the Youth Guard?”

Taylor frowned a little at that. “If you try anything that hurts my sisters you won’t have to deal with some mildly annoyed soccer moms. You’ll have me at your front door the same day.”

Martin backed up, arms raised in front of him while Faultline chuckled darkly. “I think I like you, kid,” she said. “There’s some rogue work too out there, especially within Brockton Bay. The Boardwalk has tried to hire us a few times. I’ll leave you with some phone numbers, if you want them.”

“Really?” Taylor asked.

She shrugged. “You can still do advertising, right, Mister Anderson?”

“Of course. Two birds with one stone. The presence of... six? Parahumans at one location and time would deter just about every gang in existence. Though we can’t sell it as guard duty I’m afraid, merely... on-location advertising stunts.”

“When could we start?” Taylor asked.

Martin blinked at that. “Tomorrow? Maybe Monday? The iron is hot. Your group is all over the media. For twenty percent of the profits we can cover all the legal side of things. You show up, follow basic instructions and get paid the next day. Banking holidays and such notwithstanding.”

Taylor nodded. “And you mentioned merchandising?” She felt a little sleazy about that. But it would also mean that she and her sisters got to eat which was a whole order of magnitude more important.

Martin looked ready to start when he paused and looked to Taylor’s side.

She turned and found Cheshire and Crochet flanking a dreamy eyed girl. “You seem like such a nice bigger sister,” the girl said. She reached up and patted Taylor on the head. “So nice.”

Taylor was looking for something to say when the world lurched. “Oh no,” she said.

Her stomach twisted, her world went hazy. A new sister was coming, and she was coming now.


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter Fifty-Three

She was born into the world in a cascade of faint lights, like moonbeams through shifting curtains.

Her eyes opened, and already she knew some things. The woman, young, with hair plastered to her forehead and unmasked worry in her green eyes, was her sister. She was beloved, because she cared, because she had given her life, and because she was her ideal already.

A glance around revealed onlookers, almost-familiar faces amongst a few that were not. Like visitors in a dream that had faded on awakening.

“Hello,” she said and found that her voice was soft, gentle even, like wind over tall grass.

“H-hey,” her Big Sis said. “Um, welcome to the family.”

She smiled, feeling for the first time the corner of her eyes pinching and the way her cheeks became plump with the gesture, like ripe fruit filled with happiness. She liked the word ‘family’; it had weight, gravitas. “I look forward to being a good little sister,” she said.

“Do you need a moment?” one of the unfamiliar ones asked. She was a tall woman, study though thin, with an air of professionalism about her that seeped through with every motion she made.

“I... I think that would be nice, yeah,” her Big Sis said. “But, well, I can only afford so much of you time, and--”

She was cut off by a swipe of her hand. “Forget it. And keep your money. An explanation once this is all done would be payment enough.”

“We can do that.”

There was a nod, and the woman left. With her was a young girl that resonated with the world around her, like a spider on its web that knew where every dewdrop rested, and a man with missing hair but confidence to make up for it. They left soon after, slipping out of the small room they were in and shutting the door behind them with nary a click.

“So, ah,” Big Sis said. “My name’s Taylor. We should all introduce ourselves, I think.”

“If that is what you wish,” she agreed easily. Not knowing her family; that left a pang in her chest that she just couldn’t accept. “I would love to know my sisters.”

Big Sis, Taylor, nodded. She seemed better, more settled, though still tired. To think, she had only just arrived and already her sister suffered from it.

A sister stepped up, soft smile like a fresh blanket over a warm bed. “I’m Crochet,” she said with a bow.

“Hello, Crochet,” she replied. “I look forward to knitting tighter bonds with you.”

The next sister snorted. Her ears, both large and cat-like, twitched atop her head as she sneered. “Stop trying to be so chill, that’s Crochet’s gimmick,” she said. “I’m Cheshire, the oldest and best ‘round here.”

“There’s no need to be so cattish, Cheshire,” she replied without any real admonishment in her voice. It was merely a statement. There truly wasn’t any need for such. They were siblings.

The next sister nodded once. “Kon'nichiwa, imouto.” She stood tall and proud, the unbowed but immovable one, and yet there was something transient about her. She was the centre of attention for only a moment and yet it rankled her. “I am Poppu.”

“Hello,” she said simply. If her sister wished not to be noticed, then she would not notice her.

“I’m Remedy,” her next sister said. She had her arms crossed, a barrier to the world, though not one of stone and mortar but a wall of wind and unresolved fears. “I’ll be healing you when you get hurt.”

“I will try my hardest to stay hale and hearty then,” she said. “With how you seem now, perhaps your healing is a hard pill to swallow.”

“Oh my god,” the last of her sisters said. She was staring right at her, fox ears raised as if hearing the hounds and tail swishing behind her. “Have you been making puns this entire time?”

She smiled. "I failed to notice, but you look bright eyed and bushy tailed enough to catch any passing wordplay."

Big Sis choked on empty air. “Oh no,” she whispered faintly.

Tattletail’s expression shifted, confusion passing like a haze before being burnt away by a sunbeam smile. “Oh, we’re going to get along so well!” she said as she gave her a careful, almost delicate hug.

"You're not carrying any cooties are you? I might ask Remedy to vixenate me just in case," she said. "I'm afraid I'm not quite kit-ted out for catching puns."

Big Sis removed her head from where it lay betwist her hands. “I have the impression I know where this is going,” she mumbled. “Ah, do you have a name already?”

She shook her head. She had yet to do anything to earn a name, unlike her sisters. The gift had yet to be bestowed upon her, so nameless she was and nameless she would remain. “I’m afraid that I don’t, not yet.”

“That’s okay,” her biggest sister said. She reached down and carefully patted her hair, then ran her fingers through strawberry-blonde locks. “We’ll find you a great name. Ah, maybe something to do with your power?”

“My power is quite super, yes,” she agreed. “Maybe something simple?”

“Simple?” Big Sis asked. “You mean like a common name? Jessica, Olivia, Alice, Charlotte? Not something more... descriptive?”

One of those had felt right, like the puzzle piece that just fit -- with neither too much room nor too little and with just the right shape. “Alice,” she repeated. “I like Alice, for this time and place.”

***

Huge thank you to Eli and the others from the Discord who poked at my grammar and helped bounce ideas!

Hey guys, do I look like the type of person that would beg on hands and knees for you to read his weird original fiction? Exactly! Check out Cinnamon Bun on Royal Roads! (Pretty please!)


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter Fifty-Four

Meeting Faulting the first time had been a little stressful, but it had been a business transaction and Faultline and her crew had an excellent reputation. That, and she was only there as a sort of arbiter and councillor to help Taylor. She was on Taylor’s side because Taylor was going to pay her to be on her side.

It was neat and simple and so Taylor didn't need to stress over it too much. Mister Anderson had been a bigger source of worry. He was, after all, the one with the money.

Now he was barely a footnote as she entered Faultline’s impressive office. The older man was sitting in one of the chairs before a huge metal desk that looked like it could stop a tank shell.

Faultline herself was sitting behind the desk and next to her was Labyrinth, the girl staring off towards the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing.

Taylor has left all but one sister behind. She didn’t need them complicating things as they were wont to do. Instead she brought exactly one sister with her: Alice.

The girl was... strange. Which was exactly how she would describe the rest of her sisters, so there was nothing unusual there. Alice had a sort of dreamy look to her, like someone who was in the middle of an enjoyable daydream and only half paying attention to the world around her. Her pale greenish-blue eyes looked across the room with a single smooth motion, focusing on different things and places as if she saw things that Taylor didn’t. Her smile never wavered; if anything, it grew larger and more serene as she took in her progenitor. One of her progenitors.

Alice was Taylor’s smallest sister. Not just the youngest. She was half a head shorter than most of the others, with delicate features and stick-thin limbs under a flowing white dress that was covered in fine lace. She looked like a porcelain doll that would crack at the slightest bit of jostling.

“Sit,” Faultline said. She gestured to the chair next to Mister Anderson’s.

Taylor sat, then she looked at little Alice -- who seemed completely at ease despite the tension in the air -- and patted her lap.

The serene smile turned joyous as the girl moved next to Taylor, turned around, and raised her arms to be lifted up. Small as she was she would have had to clamber up the seat without help. She obliged the girl and placed her on her lap, then started running her fingers through Alice’s hair. Hair that was platinum blonde save for a few reddish streaks.

“Alright,” Faultline said. “I would appreciate it if you could explain. It would save me the trouble of wondering, and make it a whole lot easier to decide how to act from here on out.”

“We can’t fault that line of reasoning,” Alice said so smoothly and with such a whispery soft voice that Taylor was almost able to pretend she didn’t hear the pun.

“I make sisters,” Taylor said. She raised her legs to the balls of her feet then let them drop a few times, making Alice bounce on her lap much to the girl’s amusement. “Sisters like Alice here. It happens whenever I touch a parahuman. Um. Shadows Stalker made Cheshire, Crochet came from Parian and so on. They’re... they’re real people.”

Taylor reached over and hugged Alice closer. It was like hugging a bagful of delicate bones. “They have their own thoughts and personalities and Panacea said that they’re as human as you or me. It’s just that I... make them.”

“And when you touched Labyrinth it created this child,” Faultline said.

“My name,” Alice said in her whispery voice, “is Alice. Big Sis let me choose it.”

Faultline hesitated, then nodded to Alice. “A pleasure,” she said.

“It is most assuredly all mine. I wouldn’t want my birth to fracture the relationship you have with Big Sis. Or leave any cracks in its foundation. And if you’re not both friends, then meeting with my progenitor will require navigating a whole maze of troubles.”

Taylor closed her eyes. The puns were stealthy. Not even noticeable is she wasn’t paying attention. She could live with them. She lived with Cheshire. She could live with puns. “I don’t want us to be enemies either,” Taylor assured Alice.

“I don’t see that happening,” Faultline said. Her fingers drummed a beat on the surface of her desk. “Your power is... frankly it’s one of the most dangerous ones I’ve ever heard of.”

“I know,” Taylor said. “I can hardly afford to feed the sisters I have already. And they all sleep in my room. It’s going to be hard to fit even just one more in our lives.”

“I’m sorry,” Alice said.

“No, no, don’t you apologize,” Taylor replied right away before tightening her hug just a little. It wouldn’t do for her newest little sister to think she was unloved. “None of that. We’ve faced challenges before. We’ll work through them.”

Faultline watched her, eyes fixed through the visor of her faceplate. The mercenary sighed and placed a hand on Labyrinth’s head. “This complicated things,” she said.

“Not for me,” Martin said. “In fact it makes them far simpler. Less contracts or fears of having to wrangle permission from six different guardians for one.”

“We, we can still do advertising work?” Taylor asked.

“I’m not letting this opportunity pass me by. You making, having, more sisters only means more opportunities!”

Taylor nodded, then refocused on Faultline. “And you’re... okay with this?”

“What do you expect me to do? I’m not the PRT. I’m a mercenary, you’re a client. I won’t betray the information you gave me here today. And the idea of harming children is... distasteful.” She shifted on her seat. “Do you have room for all of them? Food?”

“We should be fine for a few more days,” Taylor said. It wasn’t quite a lie. With the extra money from not paying Faultline she could stop somewhere and buy packets of ramen noodles or macaroni and cheese. The girls all loved that sort of junk food anyway.

“And Alice?” Faultline asked. “She’s Labyrinth’s... clone. Labyrinth has some difficulties with her powers.”

“I can see that,” Alice said, her voice somehow conveying a depth of sadness that had Taylor’s heart sinking. “My progenitor is both blessed and cursed with great power. I... have another though. My power extends over space and time. I will be fine, I suspect. My scope is narrower but my grasp deeper.”

“Ah, we haven’t talked about that yet,” Taylor said. “I don’t even know what Alice’s power is.”

“Oh,” Alice said. “I can make anything I see flow backwards through time. But time changes things.”

“Ah,” Taylor said.

Her sisters always made things complicated, but most of the time the laws they broke were moral or legal ones.

***

***

Huge thank you to Eli and the others from the Discord who poked at my grammar and helped bounce ideas!

Hey guys, do I look like the type of person that would beg on hands and knees for you to read his weird original fiction? Exactly! Check out Cinnamon Bun on Royal Roads! (Pretty please!)


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter Fifty-Five

Taylor crashed back-first onto her bed, every muscle sore, every bone protesting wearily, every neuron in her brain sluggish. The day had started with a foiled bank robbery and had ended in a tense negotiation with a mercenary. It had been the single longest day in her entire life.

Not the worse, by far, but the longest. She wanted to lay back down, close her eyes and just sleep.

Something, or rather someone, climbed onto the bed next to her and tucked themselves under her arm. Another weight simply appeared at the top of the bed and squeezed itself between the end of the bed and her head. 

For a moment she hoped that was it. Then two more forms climbed onto the bed and there was a scramble for places that ended with a crash as a small body hit the floor. Then the person quietly tucked into her side was yanked out with a squeak and someone else hopped onto the bed to replace her. 

“You bitch!” a familiar voice growled. “I’m older, get off.”

Taylor reached over, grabbed her pillow, and stuffed it over her face.

That was another sister’s cue to land on her as if she herself was a big soft pillow. Judging by the fluff rubbing against Taylor it was Tattletail. That, of course, sparked a war. One which was fought atop Taylor as if she was the western front; elbows and knees served as the artillery that would render her into a desolate wasteland.

There was a crack and the mattress shifted a little. The war ended in a sudden and expensive armistice.

Then the bed slumped to one side with a creak as one of its legs gave out.

“Alright! Enough!” Taylor roared.

By the time she was sitting up and glaring across the room there were six sisters that were trying hard to be the pictures of innocence--and utterly failing at it--standing in a row. 

“I just want to sleep,” Taylor begged. “Just, just some time off after today’s... todayness.”

Five pairs of eyes focused on their feet. Taylor met the eyes of the only sister not looking away. “I could use my power on your bed,” Alice said with her ever-serene voice. “It could improve matters considerably. But if you’re hesitant, then I wouldn’t blame you for sleeping on the decision.”

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Taylor said. She couldn’t be mad at Alice, she was too small and fragile-looking to be angry at. The others on the other hand, had no such defence. Well, they did, but their innocent act had worn thin already. “The rest of you behave,” she warned.

Alice’s smile transcended space and time as she prepared to do horrific things to both. She stared at the bed, then hummed. “If you want, Big Sis, I can make your bed while fixing it.”

“Really?” Taylor asked. “That doesn’t sound time-related.”

“Well, perhaps I’ll be cheating a little, just for you. If I rewind it back far enough it’ll be just the same as the last time you made it.”

Taylor shrugged one shoulder. A sister ready-made for doing, or un-undoing chores. How about that?

Alice beamed again and focused on the bed. Taylor watched as the blankets shifted, then, like a movie being rewound faster and faster, the blankets moved into place, beams of sunlight that had long passed flashed across the bed’s surface and the entire frame lifted itself back into place, whole once more.

“It’s done,” Alice said with a sigh.

Taylor stared at the bed.

“Um, Alice?”

“Yes, Big Sis?”

“My sheets were green,” Taylor said as she took in the checker patterned purple-yellow sheets now covering her bed. An outstretched foot lifted the edge of the blankets to reveal a wooden bed frame that was similar to her own, thought not quite right either. Hers had had flowers carved into the sides. This one had vines.

“Did I do wrong?” Alice asked.

“No? I don’t think?” Taylor said. She poked at the mattress a few times. It felt right. 

“Oh,” Tattletail said.

Taylor turned to see the fox-girl with a hand over her mouth. “Spill,” she said.

“It’s your bed, but not your bed,” Tattletail said.

“That makes sense,” Alice said.

“No, no it does not,” Taylor shot back. “Could you explain, please?”

Alice nodded. “Of course, Bis Sis,” she said. “I made your bed go back in time, and since time is relative to this dimension in space my power rewound your bed from the past and brought it to the now, only it was a bed from another you’s past.”

“So,” Taylor said as she wrapped her head around the concept. “You don’t so much rewind an object as get another version of that object from the past.”

“I suppose that’s an approximately accurate description,” Alice said. “Though I do rewind the object, it's just that some core parts of it don’t remember what they should be, so they take examples from elsewhen.”

Taylor’s head was beginning to pound. “We’re going to need to test this before you can use it more.” She walked over to her desk and picked up the first thing on its surface, an old calculator that smelled faintly of orange juice which she had been using for math homework. Taylor placed it on the floor. She entered one, then added one to it. Every second she pressed on equal until sixty or so seconds had passed.

“Rewind that a minute,” Taylor said.

Alice nodded. The calculator shifted a tiny bit on the ground. 

The display read ‘ten.’ A tap of the equal sign added up to eleven. “Okay,” Taylor said as she turned it around and inspected it for any changes. “Nothing seems different about it.”

Tattletail was grinning the smug grin of a little sister that knew she was going to earn her pats for the evening. “Shorter time changes mean smaller changes to the thing being rewound.”

Taylor blinked and considered that. It made a sort of sense, if she squinted and didn’t think too hard about it. Alice was the product of two capes, so her power couldn’t just be normal. “Can you rewind it a few hours?” she asked Alice.

“It’ll only take a moment,” Alice said.

The calculator shifted a little more on the ground, then, between one millisecond and the next, it was an entirely different model.

Taylor picked it up and turned it on. “Still works,” she said before inspecting it more. It seemed to be a slightly better calculator, but not by much.

“It’s good that you can still count on it,” Alice said. “I would have been disappointed to break Big Sis’s tools. I tried to reach for something better.”

“Make... Alice, could you make my bed bigger?” she asked.

“I could rewind until it’s bigger,” she said. 

Taylor grinning. She was starting to see some possibilities here. “And could you rewind my piggie bank so that it’s full again even after I empty it?”

Alice blinked. “I could try. It makes cents that it would.”

***  
Huge thank you to Eli and the others from the Discord who poked at my grammar and helped bounce ideas!

Hey guys, do I look like the type of person that would beg on hands and knees for you to read his weird original fiction? Exactly! Check out Cinnamon Bun on Royal Roads! (Pretty please!)


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter Fifty-Six

“Mine needs to be cool,” Cheshire said.

“Yours will be merely adequate,” Pop shot right back, her flat delivery making the words sting all the more.

Cheshire huffed and spun around to walk backwards in front of Taylor. “Why can’t I be called something like... Ripper or Brutus.”

“Because,” Taylor said, for the fourth time. “Those names are more suspicious, not less.” The idea had come from Tattletail and, after some thought, Taylor agreed that it wasn’t all bad. The sisters had names that were more suited to capes than proper young women. That was fine so far, but it would raise some suspicions if someone saw them calling the young girl that looked a little like a local hero by that hero’s name in public. So they needed fake names.

It was probably a strange inversion of things, that a cape needed an ordinary name instead of a cape name.

What she didn’t tell them was that she was plotting to send them to school. Not because she wanted them to get an education (though that was something of a factor) but because she needed a damned break.

“What about Raven?” Cheshire, who had volunteered to go first, asked.

“Just because you’re black doesn’t mean you should name yourself after a black bird,” Tattletail said. “Also, you’re a cat-girl. It doesn’t make sense. Also, Raven is a stupid name.”

“I will find a dagger, and I will stab you with it.”

Taylor groaned. Maybe it was a bad idea after all. Still, they had another twenty minutes of walking to go before reaching the Boardwalk. “No stabbing or your name will be something awful, like... Sophia.”

“We could call her Tabby. Like the cat,” Remedy said.

“No,” Cheshire said. “That’s lame.”

“Artemis?” Alice tried. “Like the goddess of the hunt?”

Alice, as it turned out, was a font of esoteric knowledge.

Cheshire rolled that name around a bit, then grinned. “Yeah, I like that. I’m Artemis Hebert then.”

Taylor almost missed a step. Of course Cheshire would be a Hebert, she was her sister, it had just taken her by surprise to hear it so plainly put. “Do you really like it?” Taylor asked to be sure. When Cheshire nodded with a smug grin, Taylor pulled her closer and patted her head. “Good job then, Artemis.”

Taylor gave Cheshire her moment to preen and be as smug as a catgirl could be before turning to the others. There was some juggling to do with her sisters. She had to give them all their due or else one or the other might start feeling bad.

“Remedy, you’re next!” Taylor said. Remedy was one of her quietest sisters, but her quiet wasn’t always a welcome thing, more brooding than introversion.

Remedy jumped and looked her way. “Really? Ah, I mean, okay.” She nodded seriously.

“You come from Amy, you could share her name?” Taylor suggested.

Remedy made a face. “Urh, no. I want a pretty name. A beautiful one.” She hummed. “Can I be called Victoria?”

“I... guess?” Taylor said. “If it works for you.”

The newly dubbed Victoria shuffled closer to Taylor’s side for a new-name-commemorative headpat.

“My name will be Bunshin,” Pop said. She pushed Cheshire ahead and placed herself within patting range.

Taylor blinked. “Bunshin? Does that mean anything?”

“It means offshoot, or child,” Pop said.

“Well, I guess,” Taylor replied. She soon had both hands full patting the girls next to her. Then they reached a crosswalk and it was time to hold hands to cross.

There were only two sisters that needed new normal names, and one that needed a cape name. “Crochet, do you have any ideas?” Taylor asked.

“Um, I’m afraid not,” Crochet said.

“It’s knot always easy to find a name that fits.”

Taylor eyed Alice, then refocused on Crochet. “You could go for a nice thematic name. Something about what you love.“

“But you’re already called Taylor,” Crochet said.

Taylor turned away to hide her flush. “H-how about a princess-y name? Helen, or Penelope?”

“Penelope,” Crochet said. She beamed up at Taylor. “I like it!”

“It has pee in it,” Tattletail pointed out.

“Do you want your name to have pee in it too?” Taylor asked.

Tattletail shook her head in a hurry while Taylor got to patting Cheshire. “No no no. I’ve chosen my name already. I’m going to be Nancy. Nancy Drew Hebert.”

“Isn’t that a little on the nose?” Taylor asked.

“I have a tail and big fox ears,” Tattletail reminded her.

That was actually a good point. There was trying to keep things nice and subtle, then there was hiding the more obvious signs that her sisters were who they said they were.

“Can I get belly rubs instead of headpats?” Tattletail asked.

“In the middle of the street?”

“I am willing to accomodate,” Tattletail said primly.

Taylor sighed and kept on walking, one hand patting Tattletail on the head until her pout went away. Next, she had to find a nice name for Alice, one that would fit a cape career. Those were tricky at the best of times. “Did you think of a cool cape name yet, Alice?”

“I have,” Alice said. “How about Tic Tok, because it’s the sound a clock makes when it wants attention.”

“No,” Taylor said. “Something else. Please.”

“Maybe... Rewind?” Alice asked.

It was a pun again, but puns and cape names went together like little sisters and headpats. “I like it,” Taylor said as she reached over, then way down to Alice’s head. “It’s cute. It suits one of my little sisters.”

“Heck yeah, we’re cute as fuck,” Cheshire said with overwhelming pride.

Taylor chose not to comment. They had arrived along the edge of the Boardwalk were a group of enforcers were waiting around and watching over all the tourists, many of whom turned towards her sisters and whipped out their phones. “Ma’am,” One of the guards said. “Mister Anderson is in the security bureau, between the pizza shack and the lingerie store.”

“Thank you,” Taylor said.

***

Huge thank you to Eli and the others from the Discord who poked at my grammar and helped bounce ideas!

Hey guys, do I look like the type of person that would beg on hands and knees for you to read his weird original fiction? Exactly! Check out Cinnamon Bun on Royal Roads! (Pretty please!)

This week was lame. I’m going back to bed.


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter Fifty-Seven

“You want to what?” Taylor asked.

Mister Anderson grinned from ear to ear. “Oh yes. It’s nearly all set already. Initially I thought the best would be to merely have your sisters and yourself patrol around and hand out signatures, but you mentioned wanting to make a little more. Now, NEPEA-5 complicates rogue-like activities, but there are ways around it.”

His grin grew even wider.

“So I was talking to a colleague yesterday evening, someone from work, and we were discussing the wealth of possibilities you could bring. That’s when I had an idea. A... flash of lightning out of a clear sky, as it were. Some of your sisters have skills that are parahuman, but mostly inoffensive. Why not market these?”

He gestured to the back of the little warehouse where a group of workers were... well, working on a set of little booths. One was facing them, its simple front and low counter all painted in cheery pastels. A plaque hung off the front. ‘Tattletail’s Secret Fortunes.’

“Oh, I like that,” Tattletail said. She turned to Mister Anderson with a grin that was downright scary. “You want to have us show off what we can do so that people come?”

“Exactly,” he said. “I don’t have booths for all of you, I’m afraid. This is all terribly last minute. But the booths will be placed in a semi-permanent fashion at a few stores that are near to each other. We won’t be announcing when you come, for security reasons, of course. And to attract more people to the boardwalk in case you show up out of the blue.”

“And this will help advertise... what?” Taylor asked.

“Do you know how many people show up to any event with a cape just to gawk?” Taylor shook her head. “Hundreds. More if the event is peaceful. Even more if the capes are popular. Alexandria dipping into a corner store for a can of cola will make that store the most popular one in the city for a month, and that brand’s shares will skyrocket. The enforcers will boot anyone not buying things off the Boardwalk.”

“So people that want to see us need to be clients,” Tattletail said.

“Exactly!”

“I don’t know,” Taylor began.

“A thousand dollars a day for every day you show up for at least an hour. Preferably with at least half your sisters.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Taylor asked.

***

Taylor stared at the crowds and more than one eye caught hers. There was an eager, almost feverish feeling in the air, like walking into a room after hearing giggles only to find a gaggle of little sisters shivering in repressed excitement while pretending that they weren’t up to something. It kind of terrified her.

Then she looked the other way and all of her fears were confirmed. Anderson had set up four stalls. The fact that they were hastily put together showed, but somehow that only added to their charm, as if they were lemonade stands made by a loving father that spent too much time on DiY sites and not enough time actually making anything.

Tattletail had her secret telling booth, where for a small donation people could have her talk to them. It was going to go horribly wrong, Taylor just knew.

Next to her was a small petting zoo built right in front of an expensive flower shop. The owner was outside, talking to Remedy and guiding her, somehow, into making cuter and fluffier flowers for people to pet and interact with. That was also going to go horribly wrong.

Then there was Crochet’s Fashion Advice Booth. Set right between two stores that sold the kind of clothes that Taylor couldn’t afford in a million years.

“This is going to be wonderful,” Mister Anderson said.

“Yeah,” Taylor agreed faintly.

The crowd cheered as Cheshire waved at them.

Taylor wondered if a thousand dollars was really worth it.

“Are you the one in charge of this little group?” A woman asked. Taylor turned to face her fully only to find that she was standing before an older woman in an outfit that was at once fancy and yet, strangely, not. A loose blouse, jeans, a scarf around her waist and heels so high Taylor was afraid of breaking her own ankles just looking at them. And yet the woman pulled off the look. “Well?”

“Oh, ah, yes, I suppose I am,” she said.

“Good. You see those two stores?” The woman pointed past Crochet’s booth. There were two stores behind her, one an older building with a stone front, the windows displaying pretty dresses. The store next to that was a whole lot more modern, with mannequins wearing the sort of thing that Emma would parade herself around in. “Those are mine. Convince that darling little fashionista of yours to send people my way and I’ll give you a cut. Call it... one percent off the top of all sales.”

“That sounds rather dishonest,” Taylor said.

“Three percent.”

Taylor bit her lip. “B-but honesty is cheap.”

“It truly is,” the woman said. She eyed Taylor up and down. “I like your costume. Purposefully ill-fitting is in right now.” And with that final verdict delivered, she walked away to the beat of her own heels clacking on the pavement.

“What the heck?” Taylor muttered.

“Big Sis!” Cheshire said as she ran over and pounced at her with a quick hug. “Tell the others that I can get my own booth too!” she demanded.

Behind her came Alice and Pop, both at a more sedate pace, though Pop seemed nervous with all the crowds around.

“And what kind of booth would you want?” Taylor asked.

“I could tell people how best to kill a motherfu--fricker.”

“No,” Taylor said before brushing some hair out of Cheshire’s face. “In fact... Cheshire, Pop, I have a mission for you.” Both girls stood a little taller at that. “Your other sisters will be very busy, and while there are plenty of enforcers around, they’re just normal people. I need you to keep your other sisters safe. This is the most important thing I can possibly ask of you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Cheshire said, but she was unable to hide her pride at being given an important task.

“Yes, onee-sama.”

“What about me?” Alice asked.

“I... have an idea for you,” Taylor said.

Then the cordon around the crowd broke and she was too busy dealing with a surge of tourists to explain anything.

***

Huge thank you to Eli and the others from the Discord who poked at my grammar and helped bounce ideas!

Blah blah... check out Cinnamon Bun on Royal Roads!


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Taylor couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where people with powers stopped scaring her. It was probably after one of those people had an accident on her bed that woke her up at 2AM and had to be comforted back to sleep.

As it was, her tolerance for parahuman bullshit had reached an all-time low. Her powers might have been horrifically unsuited to fighting in any way shape or form, but that didn’t mean that she would take anyone’s crap.

So she stared at the two heroines before her with eyes that weren’t even narrowed. After all, narrowed eyes were a sign that one was annoyed or angry and she was neither. “What do you want?” she asked.

Alice, who was by her side, looked up at her, then back to the two before them. Cheshire was standing a bit to the other side, arms crossed and fearsome (read: precocious) frown in place. Pop was... somewhere.

Miss Militia shifted and looked to her partner with eyes that pleaded to be rescued. Battery, the woman standing next to her, sighed but obliged. “We’re just here to make sure everything is in order,” she said.

“I see,” Taylor said. “Pop.”

Pop appeared next to Taylor, sword out and face set in a determined scowl as she looked at the two heroines. “Shall I kill them?”

“No,” Taylor said. “Can you go get Mister Anderson and tell him we need him over here, please?”

Pop slid her sword away with a twirl and bowed to Taylor. “Yes, Onee-sama.” She turned to ash a moment later.

“Her power is oddly similar to Oni Lee’s,” Battery said.

“A coincidence, I’m sure,” Taylor said drolly. She looked around at all the tourists and shoppers and gawkers gathering around. The only advantage to having the heroes around was the large circle of free space that had appeared around them. People were watching, some holding onto signature books and photos, but none daring to rush over when there was so much tension in the air. “No Wards today?” she asked to fill the silence.

She would have described it as an awkward silence, but frankly she was beyond that. She didn’t know if it was some maternal instinct (she hoped not) but something made her stand with her back straighter and her chest puffed out in the face of the two women before her.

“No Wards today,” Battery said.

“Maybe they needed to recharge their batteries,” Alice said.

“I think it’s more likely that they don’t want to cause a scene again,” Taylor said.

Alice tilted her head to the side. “Oh. I hope they didn’t lose their spark. It would be a shock to lose so many heroes.”

“Are you making electricity puns?” Battery asked.

“No?” Alice replied. “Why would I?”

“Her name’s Battery,” Taylor explained.

“Oh, that’s an electrifying name,” Alice said.

Battery sighed. “Please no. I have enough with Assault following after me all the time.” She eyed Alice. “You’re new?”

“I’m fresh, yes,” Alice said.

“More of them,” Miss Militia muttered.

“Am I a problem?” Alice asked.

“You’re no such thing,” Taylor said as she placed a hand on Alice’s head. “The... good guys are sometimes a bit too... enthusiastic is all.”

Alice blinked at Miss Militia. “She doesn’t look all that gun-ho.”

Battery placed a hand over her visor. “Great, just great,” she said. “So, little comedian, do you have a name? And could you tell us what your powers are?”

Alice looked up to Taylor for permission and got a nod. If her plans panned out, which judging by the way Mister Anderson was hustling they would, then Alice’s secrets would be out soon enough.

“My powers take time to work,” Alice said. “Then when they’re done working with time they make whatever I’m focusing them on rewind. That’s my cape name, Rewind.” She smiled at the two heroes, bright and cheerful.

“You do what with time?” Battery asked.

“She can make things move backwards through time,” Taylor said.

“Do you want to be young again?” Alice asked. “I could turn you into someone that’s my age, then we could be like cousins! Only you wouldn’t remember anything anymore, which is really annoying.”

“Oh,” Battery said. She met eyes with Miss Militia. “That’s a... good power.”

“She’s going to use it to fix things,” Taylor said.

Taylor enjoyed the confused looks on the heroine’s faces until she heard the clack-clack of shoes on pavement running up behind her. She turned to find Mister Anderson moving up to them. “Ah, hello heroes,” he said as he caught his breath. “I heard my help was needed?”

“I don’t think so?” Battery said. “Who are you, exactly?”

“Your help would be appreciated,” Taylor said. “I need to get back to work and check on the others, could you convince these two that what we’re doing is perfectly legal?”

There was a gleam in the advertising agent’s eyes. “Of course. Right this way misses, we wouldn’t want the public to think this confrontation is... of a negative nature, would we. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, maybe give a few nice soundbites for the net.”

Taylor turned around and moved back, leaving the heroes to Mister Anderson. He seemed to have things well in hand. Her sisters, on the other hand, looked a little frazzled.

Crochet was smiling for the cameras with one hand while trying very hard to hold a conversation with a gaggle of teenagers. Tattletail was being very smug in her booth while a man in a business suit cried before her. There was a long line behind him and they seemed eager to be next. Remedy was wagging her finger in the face of a girl with an ‘I Love Panacea’ shirt and Taylor decided that that would probably handle itself.

Yep, everything was just fine.

***

Next chapters are going to be from the POV of each little sister.


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Remedy looked at the pile of cash, then up to Maxime.

The lady smiled down at Remedy, then wiggled the money. “Take it,” she said. “It’s only fair.”

“Okay?” Remedy said as she took the cash. It was a lot of bills. Most of them ones and fives, but some were bigger. That meant that it was a lot of money. Money that people had been putting into the tin next to Maxime’s counter at the front of the flower shop.

Remedy had been playing with the flowers out front all morning. It was a whole lot of fun, and Mister Anderson said she could do whatever she wanted as long as what she made couldn’t hurt people.

It was like a petting zoo, but for flowers that she made cooler. It was a sweet gig, and other than one teeny tiny altercation with a filthy Panacea fan the morning had been productive, but now it was time to leave and head back home.

The others were already heading out, trailing over to Big Sis who was waiting for them while talking to mister Anderson. Big Sis had worked very hard to make sure that they could make a bunch of money to be able to buy stuff like food and things.

“Thank you, miss Maxime,” Remedy said to the flower lady. It earned her a single pat on the head. It was an okay pat. She gave it... point two Big Sisters on the pat-scale.

Remedy stuffed her wad of cash in one of the pockets of her healer’s robes and started moving towards the others. She took her time though. Big Sis only had so much time to give them, especially now that there were so many of them, so it was normal that she couldn’t give Remedy as much attention, especially since Remedy deserved it the least.

She was halfway to the others when something caught her eye and she found her steps faltering.

The space that Mister Anderson had brought them in was a sort of square, with a bunch of buildings laid out on three sides and the boardwalk proper, and the ocean of course, on the fourth side. That meant that from the middle of the square Big Sis could keep an eye on all of them without too much trouble. The flower shop she had been playing at all morning was on one corner, close to the water, and Big Sis and her sisters were on the opposite side.

Which really just meant that Remedy hadn’t really seen much of the other stores along the route. Like the one she was staring at now.

Everything Hero was tucked in between one of the clothing stores where Crochet had done her fashion advice thing and a little cafe. It was a small narrow building with a pretty front made prettier by the posters of Glory Girl taped to the windows.

Remedy looked towards Big Sis. She was still talking with Mister Anderson. She had some time.

With quick steps, Remedy moved over to the shop and looked in between the posters. It was mostly empty except for an old guy behind the counter and shelves upon shelves of cool merch.

Grinning, Remedy stepped past the open door and moved right by the counter, the guy behind it never noticing her. That was okay, she was good at not being noticed.

The store was roughly divided into five sections. Local Protectorate and Wards, local heroes, out of town Protectorate, out of town heroes, and famous rogues. There was some overlap, but most of the things near the entrance were all from the locals.

The New Wave section was the best, of course. They had scarves, medals, Pan-Pan panties, postcards, shirts and hoodies and, in the middle of a row, on a plinth that stuck out of the ground, were the most precious items in the whole store.

Glory Girl action figures.

She had seen pictures of them, of course. They were small plastic figurines (not toys!) that stood nearly a foot tall. Some were really detailed and had different variations on costumes, others were a whole lot cheaper and looked like plain Barbie dolls with cheap costumes thrown on.

Remedy looked at all the cool ones and ignored the lamer ones like the exclusive Panacea models.

In the middle, atop a smaller pillar, inside of a thick plexiglass case, was a box, and in that box was a mint condition, limited edition 2010 Glory Girl figurine. She recognised it. The model had been recalled almost as soon as it hit the shelves because the tiny plastic panties that came with it had a tendency to slip off.

Remedy stared at the tiny figure of Glory Girl in the box, posed as if blowing a kiss.

She really wanted it.

The price tag on the box read two hundred and eighty. “It’s so expensive,” she said.

“That, little lady, is because it’s signed.” Remedy spun around to find that the shopkeeper was standing at the end of the alley. He gave her a smile and a wave. “Didn’t mean to spook you. Are you interested in the figure?”

Remedy was. And she had made a bunch of money today. Maybe enough... She looked at the figurine again, want and desire rumbling in her tummy.

“N-no, no, it’s okay,” she said. “Thank you though!” she said before running out of the store.

She found Big Sis much closer. “Oh, there you are,” Taylor said with a growing smile. “I was getting worried.”

Remedy felt the rumble in her tummy be replaced by happy butterflies. “I was just looking at things,” she said. “Look, I made a bunch of money!” she said as she pulled out the wad of tips she had made.

Big Sis’ smile grew and she pulled Remedy into a tight hug. “Thanks, Rem, you’re helping a lot.”

Remedy wore a smile for the rest of the evening. She could get the model later, for now helping was more important. It was what she was for.

***

I had to look up anime figurine prices for this chapter. One more thing to add to my extremely disturbing search history.

Huge thank you to Eli and the others from the Discord who poked at my grammar and helped bounce ideas!


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter Sixty

Crochet carefully lowered the tray down, all the cups jingling and rattling a little because the tray was kind of heavy and hard to lift, but she did good and didn’t make any sort of mess.

Miss Bunny Bunch, her newest plushie, hopped into the room with the kettle, a trail of steam wafting after her before Crochet had the plushie place the kettle onto the tray. “Who wants tea?” Crochet asked as she patted down her hands on her apron.

The living room was filled with all of her favourite people and also her other sisters.

Cheshire and Pop were sitting together on the loveseat, Remedy was on the ground with her knees drawn up and Tattletail was right above her on the couch with Alice next to her. And Taylor, Big Sis, was there too, of course.

“What sort of tea is it?” Alice asked.

“It’s chai,” Crochet said. “And I have milk and sugar.”

“Then I’d love a cup. Don’t be chai with the sugar,” Alice said.

“I’ll have a cup too,” Big Sis said.

Crochet hummed a happy little song as she prepared three cups of tea. She liked the noise the spoon made as it stirred. It was like a bell announcing that there was good tea to be had. “Here you go,” she said as she gave Big Sis her cup and saucer. Then she did the same for Alice.

“Thank you, your tea smells tea-rriffic,” Alice said. “But now that that’s out of the way, should we start this par-tea?”

Big Sis took a sip then breathed in the scent of Crochet’s tea with her eyes closed. Crochet, now with a warm ball of happiness in her tummy that wasn’t just from the tea, sat down next to Alice on the last spot on the couch and waited.

“We made a good amount of money today,” Big Sis said. “Which is great. It means that we can afford some things. Food, and we can help with the rent. It also means that I can get my sisters some things that they really need.”

“Like pats?” Cheshire asked.

“Like access to a good school,” Big Sis said.

There was a long, long silence. “Can we have the pats instead?” Cheshire asked.

“I do not require an education,” Pop said.

“I’m probably smarter than all the teachers,” Tattletail said.

Crochet shook her head. She didn’t want to go to any school, not if it meant less time at home with Big Sis.

Big Sis raised her free hand and the mounting protests calmed down. “I think it might be best if I explain. There are a few good reasons why you should go to school. You all need an education. You’ll have the opportunity to make friends that aren’t your sisters. And there are groups that might try to take you away from our family if they find out you’re not getting an education.”

“We’re smart already,” Tattletail said.

“We can kill them if they try to take us away,” Pop added.

“I don’t wanna,” Cheshire said, and that was the final word on that.

“I’m not really giving you a choice here,” Big Sis said. “You need to go to school. So I found a nice private school that we can all visit tomorrow.”

Cheshire jumped to her feet and bawled her fists at her sides. “You’re just doing this cause you don’t wanna spend time with us no more!” she screamed.

“Is that true?” Remedy asked.

Crochet felt Alice sit a little closer to her side and returned the favour by hugging her little-r sister close.

“No, it’s not true,” Big Sis said. “Don’t be like that Chesh, you know that I love you, all of you.”

“If you loved us then why’re you abandoning us to some stupid school?” Cheshire asked.

“Because I need to,” Big Sis said.

“Well I don’t believe you!” Cheshire said right back.

A few of the sisters, Crochet included, gasped.

Then Cheshire crossed her arms and stomped out of the living room. “I’m going to bed,” she said.

“C’mon Cheshire,” Big Sis said. “Don’t be that way. I’ll... give you pats?”

“I don’t want your pats!” Cheshire said from halfway up the stairs. “I want to stay home and have fun and not go to some stupid school and be away from you all day.” The next Crochet heard of her was her feet stomping up the stairs and the door to Taylor’s room slamming shut.

Big Sis leaned back and then removed her glasses to rub at her eyes.

“I... I think school might be okay?” Crochet said. She didn’t, not really, but Big Sis seemed to think it was important and Big Sis knew best. “I’m sure Cheshire will come around.” Something clicked. “Does this mean we’ll have to wear uniforms?”

“I don’t want to wear a uniform,” Remedy muttered.

“We are rather too unique for uniformity,” Alice said.

“I don’t know,” Big Sis said. “Look, I just want you guys to give it a chance? It would mean a lot to me. But for now we’ll just look into it, okay? I haven’t said yes to anything yet and we need dad’s approval anyway. That, and I had other news.”

“What about?” Crochet asked.

“About our home. I... this house is nice, it’s home, but it’s too small for all of us. I was thinking we could get a bigger house, or maybe just another house in the same area with a few more rooms. You could each have a room.”

“If Big Sis gets a bigger room we can get her a bigger bed,” Tattletail said.

“That’s a good idea,” Crochet agreed. She had lots of arts and crafts stuff she wanted to do and they needed some space to be made. A room all to herself would be nice, especially if she could make it sister-proof. And a bigger bed for Big Sis would mean that they would all fit without sleeping with a faceful of elbows every night.

For some reason Big Sis rubbed at her face again. “Yeah, right. Anyway, that was all the news I had. Um, did you guys enjoy working today?”

There was a chorus of yeses at that. The work had been plenty of fun.

“Good, good.” Big Sis got up. “I’m going to go check on Cheshire. Thanks for being calmer, girls.”

Crochet watched Big Sis go, then started packing up her tea stuff. If she was going to go to school, then she would need to make school clothes for all of her sisters. It was going to be great!

***

Huge thank you to Eli and the others from the Discord who poked at my grammar and helped bounce ideas!


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter Sixty-One

Arcadia Middle was not, contrary to the name, the same school as Arcadia. They were in fact two different schools run by the same group of administrators but set on two separate campuses.

While Arcadia was a huge sprawling campus with multiple buildings, a large gymnasium and lots of outdoor areas, Arcadia Middle was...

Tattletail looked around at the huge sprawling campus with multiple buildings, the large gymnasium and all of the outdoor areas. Yep, it was a nice school. A glance over towards Big Sis showed that she was on full alert, eyes roving over all of the sisters, but especially Cheshire and Pop.

Cheshire’s eyes were still a little red around the edges and Tattletail knew that under her puffy-cheeked pout her bigger sister was stewing in a whole lot of resentment. It was way too easy to read her body language, especially with her tail whipping from side to side behind her.

“Try to be on your best behaviours,” Big Sis told them as she stepped up to the front door of the school building and opened it up.

The big corridor that ran through the school had a bunch of doors to different classrooms along its sides, some of them decorated with colourful arts and crafts. There were rows of hooks too, with backpacks hanging off them and shoes in little cubbies beneath.

It was early enough that classes had only just started a few minutes ago. Some of the backpacks were still swaying, and the scrape of chairs being moved around was just a bit louder than the voices of teachers in their classes.

There was a woman standing in the middle of the corridor wearing a polka-dot dress that looked very old-fashioned. She had a huge smile on her face and her eyes lit up when Big Sis led them into the lobby area. “Hello, children,” she said in a smooth voice just brimming with excitement.

She looked like the ideal of what a teacher should be, and Tattletail instantly hated her.

But she couldn’t do anything about that, not yet.

No, Tattletail, as the smartest sister, had hatched a devious plan that was absolutely guaranteed to work; just like how her last plan had worked more or less perfectly.

It was a simple plan, which meant that its chances of succeeding were even higher. First, she would support Big Sister all the way, reaping good feelings and additional headpats. Then, when they finally entered the school she’d just... let the others be themselves.

She eyed the building, taking in the reinforced walls, the multiple security doors and the many cameras tucked into the ceilings. It was practically a small fortress.

It wouldn’t take her sisters more than a week to bring the place down.

In the meantime, all Tattletail had to do to climb to the top of the pack was be a model little sister. “Hello!” she said to the teacher lady. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The teacher perked up. “Likewise!” she said. “Miss Hebert, ah, that is, Miss Hebert the eldest, I was hoping to discuss a few things with you? Merely some... paperwork.” Her eyes had lingered on Tattletail’s very fluffy tail, then on Cheshire’s ears which were flat on her head.

“I thought you would give us all a tour,” Big Sis said. “As a group, I mean.”

“No worries. I brought one of our model students to help,” the teacher lady said before stepping to the side and sticking her head in a nearby classroom. “Miss Biron, they’re here.”

The girl that came out of the class was about the same age as all the sisters, with long brown hair and surprisingly muscled arms hidden under the vest of her uniform. She was smiling, bright and cheerful, until she scanned the crowd of sisters.

Her smile almost dropped before it returned, but now it was just a little bit off, like when Big Sis asked who ate all of the ice cream and everyone had to pretend it wasn’t a group effort that let them eat the whole tub.

“Come along Miss Hebert, I’m certain Miss Biron will take good care of your siblings,” the teacher said as she urged Big Sis into an office.

“Right,” Big Sis said as she followed her in.

The sisters all looked at each other; Tattletail met Pop’s eyes, then the teleporter faded away.

“Did... did she just use a power?” the Biron girl asked.

“Nah,” Tattletail said with a growing smile. “You’re just seeing things.”

“Someone using powers like that would be a... stretch, wouldn’t it?” Alice asked.

Tattletail felt a tiny twinge in the back of her head at that. She was pretty sure the pun hadn’t even been on purpose.

“I... I think we should start the tour,” Biron said.

“Why?” Cheshire asked. “We know that this is a stupid school already. Ain’t need to walk around it to know that much.”

“Because we were asked to?” Biron tried.

“Stupid school filled with stupid bootlickers,” Cheshire added.

“Aww, come on, Artemis,” Tattletail said, putting some emphasis on Cheshire’s fake name. “Let’s follow Biron here around for a bit, see the whole vista the school has to offer.” She smiled at the suddenly very tense girl ahead of them.

It was a good smile.

Alice gave her a funny look, then started walking. Remedy and Crochet, both a little more reserved about the whole school thing, followed after her. “This school has a lot more space than I thought it would,” Alice commented idly.

Tattletail was still not sure if Alice had caught on, but at least Remedy and Crochet were giving their tour guide some pointed looks.

That was enough for her. If the other sisters knew that there was trouble to be had at Arcadia Middle, then they would react exactly as her plan called for.

***

Some announcements!

First, check out Dovah Queen by my friend Harper Potts. Its second book just finished and it's quite neat!

Second! Cinnamon Bun has just barely snuck onto Trending over on Royal Roads! If ever there was a time to give it a read it's now! (And I'm not just saying that because I'm desperate, I swear!)

and Third, The May Patreon Poll voted for moar Headpats. I'm beginning to suspect that those using the polls are all little sisters, what with how often they ask for more pats.


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter Sixty-Two

“And this is the arts and crafts class,” the Biron girl said with a big showman’s wave, as if it was something to be proud of. Crochet certainly seemed excited for all of ten seconds before she saw all the shit plastered to the walls.

“Who did all that?” Cheshire asked as she pointed to a water painted picture of what might have been a unicorn, maybe, if she squinted.

The Biron girl shifted. “One of your future classmates?” she asked. The girl had less confidence than even someone like Alice did in her pinkie. It was pathetic. “We practice all sorts of fun things here. Like, making clay... stuff, and painting.”

“Well, tell whoever painted all of those that they’re shit at painting,” Cheshire said.

“Hey!” Biron said. “Some of them tried really hard.”

“They should try harder to do something else cause they’re really shit at art. Look at that one.” She pointed to one image of... a hill? “Looks like poop.”

“Well, art is a mandatory class, so you’ll have to participate too,” the annoying twit said.

Cheshire had had enough. She looked at her other sisters, saw that Alice was day-dreaming, Remedy was yawning, Tattletail was doing that thing where she smiled weirdly and Crochet... Crochet was the only one actually interested in the whole school thing, which was good for her, but Cheshire had walked in with no shits to give and had since fallen into the negative.

She gave negative shits. “I’m off.”

“What?” Biron squeaked.

The little goody-two-shoes was probably worried that Cheshire doing her own thing would make her look bad. Good. If Cheshire couldn’t have nice things nor could anyone else.

She moved to a wall that had a window overlooking the fields behind the school. There were a bunch of tracks with a fence around them and a soccer field off to the side. Since she gave negative shits she just phased right through the window, and when Biron screamed something on the other side and banged against it she showed the twit her two favourite fingers.

She was free.

Free to... whatever. She wasn’t sure. Go home? But then Big Sis would find her and she’d be mad. In fact, she’d be mad either way.

Cheshire growled under her breath and stomped off towards a little building to the side of the school. Someone had left the door open and she could see all sorts of sports equipment stuffed into wooden racks and stuff.

She took a stick with a sort of net on the end, then looked around the room. Then she went to town, screaming and yelling as she hit every rack she could reach, and kicked over large metal baskets filled with balls and she even smacked--by accident--the dangling light on the ceiling and made it swing all over the place.

The net on her stick broke with a crack when she smacked some cones off a shelf, but that just gave her something sharp and pointy to stab into a stack of bright blue mats. She flung skip ropes across the room like confetti, and she screamed as she flung some weights into the walls until one of them broke through the drywall and stayed lodged in.

When she finally calmed down and wiped her cheeks, her stick was broken, her hands hurt and the room looked like how she felt.

Something creaked behind her and Cheshire spun around, ready to take out her feelings on whomever had bothered her.

Big Sis looked around the room, then locked eyes with her. Then she looked to the ground. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Cheshire wasn’t sure what to do. “S’not your fault,” she muttered at last.

Big Sis stepped into the room and reached up to stop the light from swinging so much. “Isn’t it?” she asked.

Cheshire wrapped her arms around her chest. “Not your fault that I’m a shit sister. It’s okay if you like the others better.”

Big Sis closed the door a little, then moved past Cheshire and sat on the mats after blowing some of the stuffing away. Sitting so low to the ground made Big Sis look small, especially as she hugged her knees close. “Do you want to talk about it? I promise I’ll listen. I’m not very good at being a big sister, but I can do that much.”

Cheshire sniffed. She didn’t want to talk, she wanted to... to do... something. She slumped down and sat on the floor next to a deflated soccer ball and a pile of tipped over cones. “I’m not like the others. I’m not as... as cool and I don’t know as much and sometimes I think that there’s always one sister that’s better at stuff than I am. And... and I guess that’s okay. It’s okay that you love them more than you love me.”

Cheshire wiped the dust out of her eyes again.

“And, and you know that, yeah? Cause it’s always... hugs and shit for the others, and all I get is watched a lot because I might do somethin’ stupid because I’m stupid, aren’t I?”

Big Sis hugged her.

Cheshire hadn’t noticed her moving, too busy blinking at the floor. She sat stiffly in the hug until Big Sis shook, and then she shook again and made a noise and Cheshire realized that Big Sis was crying.

“D-don’t cry,” Cheshire said. It sounded a little blubbery, weak. “Only babies cry.”

The hug tightened and it hurt. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re bein’ a dumbass,” Cheshire said. Still, she sank into the hug a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I have been,” Big Sis said. She snorted and it sounded disgusting, but she didn’t let go of the hug. “I’m... I’m going to fix this, okay? I... we’ll figure something out? Maybe we’ll just hang out together sometimes, and we can go running or, or whatever you want. I could do one thing with each sister every day, maybe. But, but this, this can’t happen, I can’t lose a sister like this. And I’m sorry.”

Cheshire considered it. It didn’t address her problem, not really. She was still the worst sister. But... but maybe if Big Sis went that far it meant that it didn’t matter that much?

She returned the hug.

“What do we do ‘bout the room?”

“Fuck it,” Big Sis said.

Cheshire giggled, and if it sounded a little wet, Big Sis didn’t mind.

***

Sorry that this chapter isn't as happy a chapter as usual.

But if you want more happiness (and to make me happy too!) check out: Cinnamon Bun! It's past 20 posted chapters now!

Also, pats to Eli for helping with the grammar!


	64. Chapter 64

Chapter Sixty-Three

They humiliated him. They humiliated his Undersiders. And worse, no matter how hard he tried to get retribution, Thomas Calvert failed.

He ran his fingers over Mister Mitten’s back, the gentle caress of fur and the rumbling purr from the arm of his chair the only thing keeping him calm.

Oh, how they had humiliated him.

And oh how they would rue the day they crossed Coil!

In his other timeline, the one he intended to keep, Thomas was walking through the corridors of the PRT headquarters downtown. Head held high, a slight hint of a smile on his lips and the sort of straight-backed posture that told those around him that he had a plan.

He arrived in the lobby area before the Director’s office and nodded to the secretary. “Calvert, for Piggot. I have an appointment in...” he shifted his arm and looked at his watch. Finely crafted Swiss gears, made before the country’s fall, displayed the time. “One minute.”

The secretary nodded and said the usual pleasantries before gesturing to one of the chairs off to the side. He and Piggot had always had a... rocky relationship, so he came in expecting to be sidelined and yanked along just for her to assert her dominance as she was wont to do.

His plan was quite simple, really. Oh, it hinged on a few things, notably the behaviour of someone that could at best be considered... erratic. But he suspected that it would succeed, and even if it didn’t, it would still cause endless trouble for his new adversaries.

Mister Mittens purred louder as he began to rub him behind the ears.

“Mister Calvert, you may enter now.”

Thomas slid into Piggot’s austere office and took one glance at the spartan surroundings before seating himself across from the corpulent woman. “Piggot,” he said.

“Calvert,” she returned. “You said you had a solution to my little... problem?”

“It’s not that big an issue, we both know. You took a hit to your image but that can and will be recuperated, in time,” he said.

“Contrary to what you might believe, I'm not a fool. And I have advisers far brighter than you telling me the obvious,” she said. “Get to the point.”

“Always so cynical.”

“Always an ass,” she returned.

Thomas smiled genially. In his secondary reality his hand spasmed over Mister Mittens and the cat jumped off the arm of his chair and onto his desk. It was a new desk, with a recessed keyboard that had a cover over it. The cat had already set off one self-destruct by walking across the board, he didn’t need a second such incident.

“I contacted a... source of mine and through certain channels was able to secure a resource that will be visiting Brockton Bay very soon. You should be hearing about it in the coming days,” he said.

Piggot’s eyebrows rose. “Are you trying to sound like a conniving manipulator or is it just second nature to you now?”

“Come now, Piggot, we’re facing the same adversary here.”

“You have problems with a group of little girls? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear your sordid tale of robbing them of their girl scout cookies.”

He snorted. “They’re very good for business, especially their last little venture on the Boardwalk. Unfortunately they’re good for the wrong businesses. I have... investments that are suffering because of them.”

“Thomas, if your plan in any way injures literal children I can assure you that on your way to the deepest, darkest pit I can find you will suffer some terrible accident.”

“Don’t be that way. I just want to get them out of the way. They can go back to... whatever it is girls do. I don’t really give a damn,” he lied. He did give a damn. He wanted them in his employ. With an army of pets he would be unstoppable!

“Right,” Piggot said. “So what’s this no-doubt stupid plan of yours?”

“The Brat Brigade are rogues, and because of their advantageous public relations have placed themselves in a position where you can’t truly do anything about them. My proposal, and this is something that I have all the resources available to accomplish, is to bring in a new rogue to the city that would chip away at their credibility and make a scene.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Piggot said.

“Be that as it may, it is out of your control,” he said. “I just want to show you the cards before I play them so that you’re fully aware of what’s going to be happening in our fair city.”

“Thomas,” she said, a warning tone in her voice.

He grinned. “I called in some favours.” too damned many. “Mouse Protector is coming to Brockton Bay for a little while. I expect her to clash quite heavily with the Brat Brigade.”

Piggot rested her face in a fat palm. “And how do you expect their meeting to end?” she asked.

“Oh, no worries. I’ll make sure that Miss Protector is... informed of all the pertinent information regarding our situation.”

In the timeline that he was going to cut off, Thomas’ hand was slamming into the arm of his throne-like chair. “Hah! They will see! They will all see what it’s like to be humiliated! Muah! Muaha! Muahahahaha!”

His guards ran into the room, then froze at the sight of him, head tilted way back, and peels of cruel laughter escaping him as he reveled in his own cruelty.

***

Oh no, I slipped on this crack and accidentally wrote a silly chapter. (But seriously, emotionally heavy chapters are hard, I can’t pump them out daily. I’m not a machine! Now, I need to head out for my bi-weekly oil change.)


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter Sixty-Four

Poppu looked at the little paper tag pinched between thumb and forefinger. It had the number one on it.

At the front of the dining room table, Onee-sama added her name ‘Pop’ to the very front of The List.

The List confused Poppu. Onee-sama, in her infinite wisdom, had declared that she was not paying enough attention to all of her imouto, and that she was sorry for it. So Poppu’s wise Onee-sama had devised a cunning plan. Each day of the week would be an imouto’s day. On that day, Onee-sama would spend some time with that imouto alone so that she could get to know her little sister better and then none of them would go without Onee-sama’s wise council.

On the seventh day, Onee-sama would rest, just like that one barbarian god.

“Okay,” Onee-sama said as she wrote down the last little sister’s name. “So, today is Pop’s day. We’re all going to head over to the Boardwalk, and Pop and I will go out and... do whatever Pop wants... within reason. Everyone clear?”

There was a chorus of affirmatives from the other imoutos. Cheshire seemed to have changed over the last days, becoming even more insufferable than usual, and she was the loudest to cheer.

They all set out as one group, and Poppu set aside her confusion in order to focus on her job. It was her sacred, Onee-sama-given duty to watch over the other imouto when Onee-sama herself could not. As such, there was no time for navel gazing.

In due time, they arrived at the Boardwalk and Poppu went ahead and scouted the area. There were many more people shopping and talking and moving about than usual. Onee-sama’s great plan to seperate the fools from their money was well underway and would no doubt be a great success.

Onee-sama had promised them all rooms when they found a new home. Poppu was considering how she would like her own room to be. Perhaps she could instal a small shrine in a corner to worship her ancestors, of which there was only one. Or she could acquire a nice rack on which to place some traditional weapons.

She shook her head and refocused. Some of the plebeians were pointing at the roofs she occupied and others took photos. Onee-sama had warned them of this. The imouto were not to make rude gestures of pick at their noses while cameras were pointed at them, so Poppu did neither.

Soon she was back with her other siblings. “The area is safe, Onee-sama,” she said.

Onee-sama smiled at her and rewarded her with a small pat.

The other imouto were sorted in their places and soon it was only Poppu and Onee-sama. “So, where did you want to go? I don’t have too much money, but I have enough for a good lunch and maybe a few little extras.”

Poppu looked around, but Onee-sama had been addressing her. “I will go wherever Onee-sama wants,” Poppu said.

Onee-sama frowned and looked saddened. Poppu contemplated seppuku. “How about I give you some ideas then, and you pick the one that you want to do the most?” Onee-sama said.

This was agreeable, so Poppu nodded.

“Okay. well there’s a small ball-pit place at the end of the Boardwalk. There’s a restaurant there too. We could grab a pair of Happiness Meals? Or... there’s window shopping? Maybe... I think there’s a tea house one street back.”

Poppu was about to say that the window shopping would be the safest option when Onee-sama smiled.

“Tea it is,” she said. “I saw that look in your eyes.”

Poppu frowned. Had her eyes betrayed her? How? But then, questioning someone like Onee-sama’s perceptiveness was folly. “Very well, Onee-sama, we can go drink some tea, if it is what you want.”

“It’s not about what I want,” Onee-sama said and she gave Poppu another pat. “These are your hours, Pop. Hours for you to have your own bit of fun, to tell me if there’s anything wrong that I can help you with.”

Poppu stood taller. She would not spit on such a gift, even though she did not need it. The other imouto might be weak and mentally broken, but she was her Onee-sama’s tool and therefore did not need such coddling. But if Onee-sama thought it was for the best... “Okay, Onee-sama.”

“Alright! Come on,” Onee-sama said. She extended a hand to Poppu for her to take it.

She hesitated for a moment, but if that is what she wanted, who was Poppu to deny her.

Hand in hand, they walked through the crowds that gawked and basked in Onee-sama’s presence, some taking pictures as if a digital representation of Onee-sama would be worth anything compared to seeing her with their own eyes.

Poppu kept expecting something bad to happen, for a villain to appear, or some someone unworthy to come out of the shadows and accost her Onee-sama, but they made it to the tea parlour in peace and were escorted to a small room where they were made to sit across from each other. The staff bowed a lot, as was appropriate around Onee-sama, and they gave them menus to pick tea from.

As they drank their tea and Onee-sama prodded Poppu about her day, and about her thoughts around such inane things like school and making non-imouto friends, Poppu realized that Onee-sama had been speaking the plain truth. This really was just for Poppu.

“Onee-sama,” Poppu said shortly after the tea was delivered.

“Yeah, Pop?”

“Thank you, Onee-sama.”

“I... you’re welcome, Pop,” Onee-sama said. “You really do deserve this, you know?”

No, she did not, but she would. Poppu knew now that her expectations of Onee-sama’s greatness were far too low. She was a far greater person than she had even realized.

Poppu would be the most diligent and greatest imouto Onee-sama had ever had.


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter Sixty-Five

Alice often thought. It was one of her favourite things to do--thinking, that is. Her mind would meander around ideas, skip past rationalities, and jog along tangents. Thinking was as fun as it was useful.

On this particular afternoon, as the sun smiled from above upon crowds of strangers, Alice found herself with little more to do than to think. The promised repair booth had yet to be created and her other sisters were quite busy.

Tattletail was like a fox in a henhouse as she tore apart people’s egos, Crochet was putting together fashionable outfits, and Remedy was fixing up some plants to become adorable little monstrosities. The only other sister that was not busy was Cheshire.

Alice’s most cattish sister was lounging back on a nearby roof, her tail twitching as she absorbed the sunlight and took a nice catnap.

Alice thought that this was wonderful. Cheshire deserved a good rest.

She wished that Big Sis was around, Taylor had a way of brightening up the day, even if she was something of a busybody. But, alas, it was merely the five of them, left to tend to a crowd of curious gawkers and occasionally annoying tourists. They reminded Alice of seagulls. Always squawking and crying and quick to take whatever they could grab.

Alice was fine with the idea that she could avoid all of them until Big Sis returned with Pop. Then they would return home for supper and playtime and finally sleep. The days were long and slow and full of laughter and crying and happiness, and Alice couldn’t think of a way to make them better.

“Ah, shit.”

Tattletail was the one to swear. She hid it well, but Tattletail was the sister that had dug up the most interesting of vocabularies, the sorts of words that would set Big Sis’ face aflame and that would earn most of them a solid minute in time-out.

Her gaze travelling across the square, Alice found what was bothering her bigger sister.

Like angels they descended from above, figures in white that glowed in the bright afternoon light and whose costumes fluttered in the ocean breeze. The crowds murmured, their awe becoming a chant that announced the presence of the heroes better than any horn.

The heroes touched the ground with the points of their feet and a hush fell over the area, soon broken by excited calls and cheerful claps.

Alice searched around and found Mister Anderson talking with some working men a little ways away; they were busy measuring the area where her rewind booth would be.

“I’ll take care of this one,” Tattletail said.

“No,” Alice said. “You keep on telling tales, I’ll greet our guests.”

Tattletail looked at her for a moment, eagerness to argue and to make herself appear the smartest around warring with her own cunning knowledge that she would inevitably anger their guests and then Big Sis when she returned. Alice saw the moment Tattletail made up her mind, gave her one of her smuggest smiles, and motioned for her to go ahead.

The sisters had never really come up with a plan--as far as she knew--for what to do in the absence of Big Sis. Big Sis was a constant, after all, and her not being there was a thought so alien that even her mind had a hard time wrapping itself around the idea.

Big Sis wasn’t here now, though, so it fell upon Alice’s shoulders to take care of this problem. She slid off the out-of-the-way bench she had been sitting on and ambled over to the capes. She didn’t quite recognize them. There were three of them, a very large man and two much slimmer women. All very old.

The crowds parted around them, but Alice knew their seagull gazes were on them, waiting to snatch up any interesting morsel that they dropped.

“Hello,” she said.

“Another one?” one of the women asked. She was a plain woman under the costume, with features that suggested that she took life very seriously, and marks across her forehead that spoke of habitual frowns.

“Carol,” the other woman said. “Be kind.”

“Being kind is a nice thing,” Alice said. “I’m Rewind, the youngest member of our little family. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“We heard that your Brat Brigade was causing a fuss on the Boardwalk,” the one called Carol said.

Alice considered this. “We have permission to be here, but if needs must I can ask Mister Anderson to brandish the paperwork before you.”

The nice woman smiled and bent forwards a little to be on Alice’s level. “Do you happen to know where Big Sister is?”

“She popped out for something,” Alice said. “Perhaps I can help you?” The woman seemed nice. She was bright and homely and radiated a sense of motherliness, just like Big Sis, but less.

“Are you one of Bis Sister’s... sisters?” the nice lady asked.

Alice touched her mask, the thin fabric of the domino mask cool to the touch. “Yes,” she said. Perhaps this lady was only bright on the outside. “May I ask who you are?”

“I’m Lady Photon,” the woman said. “This is my sister, Brandish, and this is my husband, Flashbang. We’re with New Wave.”

Alice inspected them all in turn, from the explosively colorful Flashbang to the sharp-eyed Brandish and finally back to Lady Photon. “Aren’t you a little old to be a new wave?”

“It’s been our name for some time,” Brandish snapped.

Alice, being a good and polite sister, didn’t take offence at the tone. Instead she explained her reasoning in a calm and soothing manner while her eyes lingered on a particularly pleasant cloud in the distance. “Ah, but if you’ve been a New Wave for a long time, then isn’t it even more likely that you ought to become an Old wave?”

“Carol,” Lady Photon said under her breath. She only had smiles for Alice though. “We were hoping to ask for a bit of a favour from your team,” she said.

“I’m partially ears,” Alice said.

“Pardon me?” Lady Photon asked.

Alice could not recall the lady ever harming her, so she acquiesced. “You’re pardoned.”

“We need your biotinker,” Brandish said.

“What ills do you need remedied?” Alice asked. This was beginning to sound serious, especially if they needed the assistance of their healer sister.

“My daughter has a... cat problem,” Brandish said.

“Might I suggest a veterinarian?”

Brandish growled something and took a large, calming breath. “Remedy gave her a cat tail and ears,” she said.

Alice nodded. That sounded quite plausible. “That’s wonderful.”

“No, it isn’t! Victoria’s been afraid to step out of the house, Amy doesn’t want to cure her for some asinine reason and she’s started to shed!”

“Ah, I see,” Alice said. “Perhaps next time pick a breed that doesn’t shed?”

Brandish seemed ready to explode, so Alice decided to press forwards and find the root of the problem.

“Has she changed since her race changed categories?” Alice asked. “Has she become hiss-terical, or purrhaps she’s developed some cattitude problems? Sudden changes can be a furr-midable challenge, I suppose. But no worries, I’m sure that once the cat is out of the bag people won’t treat her any worse than you would treat your own daughter.”

“Are you doing that on purpose?” Lady Photon asked. She looked very disapproving.

“Am I doing what on purr-pose?” Alice wondered.

“Come on, let’s go,” Brandish said. “I’m not taking another minute of this.”

“Ah, leaving already?” Alice asked. “In that case, farewell. Mister Flashbang, I hope our meeting wasn’t a flash in the pan. Lady Photon, I do hope that we brightened your day, and Lady Brandish I hope I didn’t chip away at your brand. I apologize if I did.”

Lady Photon grabbed a rather red-faced Brandish and pulled her away from Alice.

She, in turn, took a lesson from the pretty cloud far above and floated on back to rejoin her family. “That went well,” Alice said to Tattletail as she returned to her seat.

“I’ll say hi next time,” Tattletail said. “Build on your foundation, so to speak.”

Alice blinked at her sister. Sometimes people made so little sense.

***

I guess Alice is the spokesister of the BBBB. Poor Alice, having to deal with people. More chapters next week! Just as soon as I figure out what to write... I swear I had a plan.


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter Sixty-Six

Danny Hebert had once thought of himself as a solid family man. He had aspirations that were within his reach and he wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of that.

Once, that had been him.

Now he was... less.

Annette had taken something of him with her when she passed. He lost a vital spark, and all he lived for now was his work and his daughter.

Daughters. His daughters.

He sat in the living room nursing a beer and a headache as he looked at a picture frame that was held together by little more than happy thoughts and a single strip of scotch-tape along the back. One of the girls must have thought she was being clever with her little repair. Probably Cheshire, it was like her to break something then pretend it was fine. Or maybe Crochet?

Not Taylor though, and not... not....

Danny took a long swig of his beer. Something was wrong with him, with his memory. It was becoming increasingly obvious that he was forgetting all sorts of little things, and it terrified him. Could he still care for his children if his memory went away?

“Annette,” he whispered, a thumb running over the cracked glass of the picture. It was him and Annette and little Taylor, probably before any of the others were born. That had been... a few years before Annette passed.

He frowned. His girls were mostly eleven, or twelve. He couldn’t recall their birthdays, but then he had needed Annette to remind him of his own sometimes, so that wasn’t terribly new. Still, they would have been... well, if Taylor was fifteen now, and she was ten or so in the picture, the youngest would have been seven at the time.

He recalled the picture being taken at the park, how he had fiddled with their new camera’s clunky timer for a while before getting it to work.

Where had the girls been then?

Lacey’s maybe? She had loved babysitting little Taylor, it must have been the same for the others. Right?

Danny placed his beer on the table next to his desk and then fished out a bottle of ibuprofen. Two pills later, swallowed dry, and he allowed his head to lean back into the backrest of his couch.

Something strange was going on. He didn’t want to go to the doctors. Honestly, he couldn’t afford to. What if there was something wrong with his head? If he passed on now... Taylor would be devastated, the others too. They were too young to lose their dad, to lose the only income they had. Then they would be split up and adopted and... no, he would make an appointment come morning.

Danny was about to turn on the television to drown out his confusion in some good old hyper-sensationalized news when the doorbell rang.

He got up. That wasn’t one of his kids. They usually came in from the back and knocking was not their forte. “Coming!” he called as he replaced the one slipper that had slipped off and rebuckled his belt.

He had a bit of a beer-belly, sue him.

The vague silhouette behind the door only told him that his guest was smaller than he was by half a head. Not much to go by at all. So he opened the door and took in the person, the woman, standing there.

She was shorter than him, but lean and muscular, though her long trench coat hid most of that. Her face was partially concealed by a large pair of sunglasses that slid down the length of her nose as she looked him up and down.

“Hello,” he said. “Can I help you?”

“Hello, sir,” the woman said. Danny guessed that she was in her early thirties, though he was only as good as the next man at guessing a woman’s age.

“Can I help you?” he asked again.

“Ah-hah, yes you can, good sir. I’m a private detective, Prudence Roe Tector, at your service. I was canvassing the area looking for some... suspicious individuals, and I was wondering if you could assist me by answering a few questions.”

“Danny, Danny Hebert, and uh, sure, I guess,” he said. He didn’t really have much better things to do. Also, she was kind of cute when she smiled and Danny had been single for a while.

“Brilliant!” Prudence said with a beaming smile. “Do you happen to have any kids, Mister Hebert?”

“Why are you asking that?” he asked. Prudence gestured to the walkway which was covered in chalk drawings and he felt a bit of a blush creeping up his neck. “Ah, yeah, I have daughters. Si--seven of them.”

“Seven,” Prudence repeated. “That’s... something. Are you a single parent?”

“I am,” he said. “What were you investigating, exactly?”

“Ah, yes. Actually it does pertain to children. Someone has been employing kids around here to work in conditions that we suspect are less than legal. We just want to make sure they’re all safe.”

“That’s awful,” Danny said. “But I can assure you none of my daughters are working anywhere. All but my oldest are eleven and twelve.”

“You have six daughters that are all eleven and twelve?” Prudence repeated. She pulled a notepad with a rather childish mouse logo on the front from her coat and made a few quick notes within.

“Do you have any kids?” Danny asked. The notepad had to be from one of hers.

“Nnnope. Never had the time for that kind of thing, and I have the maternal instinct of a very unmotherly rock. So, six kids all born within the same... twenty four months. Any twins? Triplets? Quadruplets? Whatever the word is for five?”

“No, they’re all ... non-twins?” He wasn’t about to say ‘normal’ since that didn’t seem like a word to use about his daughters, any of them.

“And no adoptions?”

“No, they’re all my daughters. Where are you going with this, officer?”

“Hrm?” Prudence said. “Oh, I’m not an officer, just a detective. See, I’m detectivizing, and therefore must be a detective. Just like you must have been a very, very busy man some.... twelve to thirteen years ago.”

“I don’t see what you’re trying to get at,” Danny said.

Prudence shrugged, the gesture almost lost in her huge coat. “I’m not sure either. Hey, wanna grab a coffee?”

“What?”

“Coffee? It’s black, tastes good? You can tell me all about your kiddos while we have ourselves a cuppa?”

Danny backed into the house and slowly closed the door. He wasn’t sure if he should have been a little more worried, or if he should be contemplating calling the cops. One thing he did know was that he needed to have a conversation with his daughters about strangers.

***

Next chapter is going to be... something else.


	68. Chapter 68

Path to Pats - Immaculate Contessception

Contessa didn’t know how she was feeling. Not an altogether unusual scenario, but nonetheless one that irked her and was distracting her from her important work.

She considered this as she picked up a vase full of marbles from a table and flung it to the side where it burst apart and sent porcelain, and marbles, flying across the marble floor. She scooped up a piece of that vase and threw it to the side.

The guards that rushed into the room, guns drawn, were looking at her instead of the ground. It was no wonder they tripped.

She stopped walking for just a moment, long enough for a bullet to pass where her head would have been and plant itself in the head of the man currently choking on a bit of vase off to her right.

Her attention shifted to the mob boss currently soiling himself at the end of the room.

Really she could have just doored over to his office and gotten what she wanted, but Doctor Mother insisted that Contessa take some time to relax and destress. Watching Earth Resh’s version of John Wick had given her some ideas that she thought might be fun, but really all it did was give her a mild case of tinnitus from all the barely avoided gunshots.

“Please no! Anything. I have children!” the man on the ground screamed.

Contessa considered his words as she did unspeakably horrible things to him. Did his having children change anything? His fresh body said no, but something rolling in her stomach said yes.

“Path to figuring out what’s wrong with me?” she wondered. The path laid itself out in all of its many steps and... and that was a bit much so she shut that one off.

It was one thing to know what she was... unique, it was another to learn that she would need to fund an entire university of psychiatrists to get a concrete answer on what was wrong with her. No, there had to be a simpler solution.

Fortunately, Contessa was great at gaming the system, so to speak. “Path to reading on my condition.”

This path was far simpler.

“Door to the Library of Congress,” she said before walking into the slit opening up in reality before her.

An hour later Contessa was staring, rather horrified, at a brightly coloured book. She imagined that it was like those frogs whose mere touch led to an early demise; it was bright to ward off the curious.

Clockblocking Menopause: Why Your Time is Running Out and You Should Just Settle was one of the scariest books she had ever handled, and this one didn’t even scream or spill fresh blood when opened.

Contessa leaned back into the throne she had found using her ‘path to a comfortable place to read’ and stared off at the ceiling. It couldn’t be. She was... in her late thirties? Had she hit forty? She was still young! Very young.

And besides, motherhood wasn’t for her.

“Path to becoming a mother?” she asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. She balked at all the steps. It would take nine months? And then she’d...

Contessa stared at her crotch in horror.

Nope.

None of that.

Not for her. She knew about the birds and the bees, of course. She had used a path to learn about that kind of thing a long time ago. But applying that knowledge to herself? Yeah, no. That was not going to happen. Ew.

The conception alone was far too messy. She’d rather stick to doing wetwork. At least then she wouldn’t be forced to waddle around for four to five months with a swollen stomach. Then the little prog would want to chomp on her chest? And it would soil itself for literal years?

What was the point?

“Path to becoming a mother without any of... that?” she wondered. Then she blinked.

Fewer steps. Far fewer. And it only involved breaking into one government-run blacksite.

“Huh,” she said.

***

Taylor felt a weight coming off her back as they arrived home. She held the back door open for her troupe of little sisters and counted six heads as they all filled into the house, then she followed after. The day had gone fairly well. She hoped that her new system for spending time with her sisters would help keep them on an even keel from now on. So far she had only spent time with Pop, but that was enough to see that the little ninja... probably needed a bit more attention too.

They all did.

Sometimes she wished she had someone else to take care of her sisters.

Especially when she walked into the living room to find them arguing over the television’s remote while her dad looked on and smiled behind a bottle of beer. “Hey dad,” she said.

“Hey sweetie. Have fun today?”

“Yeah. Look over the brats for a bit please? I need to go to the washroom,” she said.

“Are you gonna shit?” Cheshire asked. “Cause last time you stunk the place up.”

She ignored that with aplomb. Cheshire, at least, was doing better it seemed. Which mostly meant she was louder and more obnoxious than before.

Taylor slipped into the bathroom, closed the door, locked it, then turned to find herself face-to-face with a woman in a business suit.

“Who--”

“Does this look like a memory wiping device to you?” the woman asked as she raised a small metallic... thing.

There was a flash.

Taylor stepped out of the bathroom, her hands wet because someone hadn’t done their chores and left the towels in the dryer without folding them. She sighed and rubbed at her stomach. She was feeling a little off. It was probably time to start preparing dinner for everyone.

***

Doctor Mother was a busy woman, but when Contessa showed up in her office she always made a point to greet and chat with the young woman. She considered her something akin to a daughter. She had never had the opportunity to raise her own, so her maternal instincts had latched onto little Contessa all those years ago.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

Contessa looked around the office with a hint of curiosity in her eyes, a sure sign that she wasn’t in the thralls of a path. Then her eyes locked onto Doctor Mother’s. “I have a child now.”

“... pardon?”

A wide-eyed little girl in a pantsuit and a large floppy fedora stepped out from behind Contessa. She was the woman’s mirror image, if far younger and chubby-cheeked.

“Please take care of my daughter while I work,” Contessa said. Then she stepped out of the room leaving the child... her daughter, behind.

“What?”

“Hi, Doctor Grandmother!”

***

And now, for something completely different.


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter Sixty-Seven

“Well,” Taylor said as she looked at the building. “It’s certainly a... house?”

That was a quality. Not a very impressive one, but one that the building certainly had. It had a roof. Mostly. And walls all around it.

Next to her, Tattletail and Crochet eyed the building with suspicion as if it was the kind of place Taylor had warned them against. Which in a way, it pretty much was.

The giant ‘Scrw you!’ spray painted across the once-white clapboard gave it a certain... look. It was too bad. The house had nice bones. Two stories, a big porch that ran across the front and along the side. A little garage that was missing its door.

The fenced-in area in the back was supposed to have a pool, though it was currently more of a large dirty hole as far as Taylor could tell.

There were more missing windows than actual windows, which meant that it fit in perfectly well with all the other homes in the neighbourhood.

Ten years back, the area had even been rather affluent, even if the demographic had leaned heavily towards older retirees. Now... Taylor winced as the crack of a gun went off in the distance.

She turned to the real-estate agent. “So, you said this one was the only one that fit?” she asked.

The man shrugged one shoulder. “Below thirty thousand, seven bedrooms. That’s all you asked for,” he said. “It’s a bargain. The lot is probably worth that much.”

Taylor scowled at the house. Well, it wasn’t far from her home. Which... yeah, that wasn’t the best either. “I guess we’ll take it,” she said.

The real estate agent blinked. “Well then. I guess it’s off to the bank with us.”

***

Taylor scratched just under her mask. It was a real pain to have the thing on her face for so many hours of the day. Still, it was necessary for the current fiction.

“So, miss... Big Sis, did you understand the entirety of the contract?” the lady behind the desk asked.

Taylor didn’t, not really. But she did have a Tattletail.

“It’s good, Big Sis,” Tattletail said.

Taylor signed on the dotted line. Then she scribbled out her name and wrote her cape name.

The laws about identities in the US were really strange, but if they couldn’t prove that Taylor Hebert was Big Sis, then they couldn’t prove that Big Sis wasn’t over eighteen. Simple logic, that.

***

“Okay,” Taylor said. “Thank you.”

The agent grinned at her and carefully placed the keys in her open palm. “Welcome home, I suppose.” He looked over at the house. “I do hope you’ve set aside some... lots of money for the renovations.”

“Ah, no,” Taylor said. “But I appreciate the concern.” She turned around and surveyed her flock of little sisters who were bouncing around with barely contained excitement. “Alice, sweetie, are you ready?”

Alice nodded. “If I do good, I get dibs on the room nearest to Big Sis, yes?” Alice asked.

“That’s right,” Taylor said.

“Good, in that case I hope the house stays in one piece,” Alice said.

Taylor frowned. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“I can’t see the fourth wall from here. I’m afraid I might break it with my power.”

Taylor patted her on the head. “You’ll do just fine, I’m sure.”

“Um,” the real estate agent said. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“We’re fine,” Taylor said.

Then Alice raised both hands in the air as if she was hugging the sky above. The house shifted. Graffiti faded away, and was replaced by fresh splashes of colour that disappeared just as quickly. The roof shifted and twisted; the balcony got a fresh coat of paint, then elongated itself. The windows were repaired one moment, then changed from large aluminium squares to wooden eight-panels.

“When did you say this house was built?” Taylor asked the agent.

The man was staring at the house, slack-jawed. “Eighteen Eighty?” he said.

“Cool,” Taylor said.

“Phew, I’m done, Big Sis,” Alice said.

Taylor looked at their new home, the single biggest and most expensive thing she had ever purchased.

The grass was lush and green, leading up to a pretty little flower garden that ran alongside the front porch where a pair of old rocking chairs waited. The columns before the porch were decorated with pretty filigree of flowers and birds that followed all around the porche’s roof. The second storey now had little eight-panel windows, each one painted in pastel greens that complemented the dark blue wooden walls perfectly.

It looked like something out of a magazine.

The flagpole at the front was flying something that wasn’t an American flag, and the garage now had two smaller doors, but she could live with it.

“Ya think the pool’s still there?” Crochet asked.

And then all hell broke loose and the brat brigade charged ahead. “I want the room next to Big Sis’s!” one yelled.

“I called dibs!” Alice said.

“There’re two sides, idiot.”

Taylor figured she’d wait until she heard glass breaking before she rushed after them. “Right, well, thanks for all the help, sir,” she said.

“Ahh,” the man said. “Is that legal?”

Taylor shrugged. “I don’t think it would be legal to fix someone else’s house this way, no. But it’s mine, so who’s going to stop me?”

She patted him on the shoulder and made her way towards her new home. She had to pick out a room for herself.

Then she had to explain all of this to her dad.

Joy.

***

Housing prices based on homes available in Flint Michigan, then changed to take into account inflation from 2011 to now, then I assumed that Brockton Bay is worse than Chicago... yikes.

Also, I have an ebook coming out on Amazon soon! More news later!


	70. Chapter 70

Chapter Sixty-Eight

“Dad. We need to talk.”

Danny paused midway past the threshold into the living room, the coffee in his mug coming dangerously close to spilling over. Those five words sent a chill running down his back. They were not words a dad wanted to hear, not truly. Oh sure, there were plenty of ‘you can tell me anything’ platitudes, but...

Danny tried on a smile and tamped down his nerves. It was probably nothing. Maybe she wanted to get her point of view over an argument with her sisters in first, or there was a problem at school, or... any number of things.

He smiled at his eldest daughter, then looked deeper into the room where the other... six were sitting down and mostly behaving. “What’s wrong, kiddo?” he asked. He knew how much the name bothered her, which meant that using it brought some normalcy back to the situation.

In theory. He hoped.

Taylor licked her lips, eyes skittering away from his as if they were magnets of the same polarity. She crossed her fingers together over her abdomen. “I have a bit of a problem,” she said.

Oh shit, she was pregnant.

No, no, it couldn’t be that. She was only fifteen. Why, when he was fifteen... his grip tightened around the handle of his mug.

He was going to borrow a gun from Kurt. He had a nice double-barrel over his mantlepiece. A big thing. Danny bet he could blow a punk into giblets with that thing.

“Dad?” Taylor asked.

He blinked, and through an effort of will he loosened his grip on the mug. Right, he needed to be there for his daughter. “It’s, it’s okay Taylor. If you want to keep it, or, or give it for adoption or...” He swallowed. There were other options too. Maybe it was his boomerness speaking, but he had always found those distasteful, but Taylor could make her own choices and he’d be there for her.

“Give it for adoption?” Taylor repeated. She shook her head and frowned over to her sisters. “What’re you on about?”

“You’re... not pregnant?”

Taylor’s cheeks turned a few shades redder. “What?!”

Crochet gasped. “I’m going to be an aunt?”

Pop pulled a sword from somewhere, her face a rictus of barely concealed anger. “This is impossible. I watched Big Sis all the time. Even when she pooped. No filthy gaijin touched her. If they did, I will abort them.”

Tattletail was grinning, the others looked confused, and Alice stared at the ceiling before she sighed. “I don’t want to abort this conversation, but maybe we can move on, it’s getting late,” Alice said.

Danny chuckled, his nerves settling so fast and hard it felt like coming down from an adrenaline high. “Was that a pregnancy joke, Alice?” he asked.

Alice blinked. “I don’t think so,” she said. “That kind of joke requires a much better delivery.”

Taylor sighed. “Dad, sit down. Please.” His eldest daughter gestured to his seat.

Danny shuffled over to it, placed his mug on the little table next to the seat, then sat down heavily. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Taylor nodded. She started to pace from one side of the room to another, something that he had found cute when she was little and would expound the virtues of whatever she happened to be into, and would try to sell it to him and Annette.

“Just come out and tell me, sweetie,” he said.

Taylor spun on a heel, then brought her arms around to hug her abdomen. “Fine. I... I’m a parahuman,” she said.

Danny took in a deep, long breath. That was... that was something. Taylor wasn’t the prank type, so he ruled that out. She wasn’t the sort of girl that did drugs, so it wasn’t a hallucination or something. “Okay,” he said.

“That’s it? Okay?” she asked.

“That was more of a ‘I’m processing this, but I understand in principle,’ okay,” he explained.

“Right, right.”

“So, um, what can you do?”

Taylor started pacing again, which set him off all over again.

“Please, please tell me you’re not a villain.”

“I’m not a villain.”

Danny winced. “Was that a...’I’m not a villain, period,’ or more of a ‘what I’m doing is morally right, even if it’s not legal, so I’m not technically a villain?’”

“Dad!”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Right, right, okay. So, what can you do?”

Taylor looked away. “It’s complicated.”

“I can tell him!” Tattletail volunteered.

He should have felt something that all of Taylor’s sisters knew before he did, but really, they were sisters, it was probably natural. And keeping things from Tattletail was always a chore.

“I can make little sisters,” Taylor said.

“You’re going to have to explain that one,” he said. “Like... clones of your sisters?”

She shook her head. “No dad. I mean. All of my sisters. They’re, uh, made from my power. If I touch a cape, a parahuman, I get queasy in my stomach, and then they come out. Appear. They appear. They’re like clones, sort of, but younger, and girls.”

“That sounds...” he wanted to say farfetched, but he’d seen some weird powers in his day. “Unusual.”

“I guess,” Taylor said.

“Can I see one of these clones? Or are they dangerous?” He frowned. “Which parahuman did you test this on? Please tell me you haven’t been going around doing vigilante stuff.”

“No, dad,” Taylor said. “It’s... dad, you know my sisters?”

“Of course I do,” he said. He might not be dad of the year, but still!

“Dad, they’re made with my power. Each one of them.”

Danny looked to all of the expectant faces sitting on the nearby couches. Then he cracked a smile and chuckled. “Aww, you guys really had me going there!” he said.

Taylor sighed. “Oh, for the love of god, this is going to take a while.”

***

Bit of news!

So, two things! Last month, Patreons votes on the poll as they do, and two stories tied for first place, which... never happened before. So I’m gonna try to write a chapter of Headpats and Waaagh! Every week for the month of July.

Second thing!

I recently published an ebook (Paperback coming soon!) on Amazon! It’s called Cinnamon Bun, a name you might recognize since I’m posting that same story, for free, over on Royal Roads. Volume one is available for $3.50usd. If you’re looking for something cute and fun to read, maybe you can give it a look!

I’m still just a small-fry writer, but I’m dreaming big, and I figure this would be a good first step towards being able to live comfortably from writing alone.

That’s all I had to say! Thanks guys!


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter Sixty-Nine

“So,” her dad said as he pointed to Tattletail, then up to her ears. “Tattletail... isn’t my daughter?”

“That’s right,” Taylor said.

“And she has powers, just like all of the others.”

Taylor nodded. The evidence of their impromptu power show-off was all over the living room, from a pile of ashes that was someone else’s problem, to some cloth that had been thrown around, to a desk lamp that was a little more retro than it had been an hour ago.

“And she’s... my daughter?” Danny asked.

Taylor reached up and, not for the first time that day, pulled her glasses off and rubbed at her face. “No dad, she’s not your daughter.”

“Not.. biologically?” he asked.

She placed her glasses back on, then shrugged. “You know what, let’s go with that. She’s your daughter, but not biologically.”

Tattletail looked up to her. “Close enough?”

“Pretty much,” Taylor agreed.

Her dad shifted back so that he was no longer on the edge of his sofa. “I’m sorry, it’s all... it’s a lot. It’s not every day that a man learns that all seven of his girls are parahumans. At least I didn’t learn about it on the news.” He sat up a little straighter. “You haven’t done anything newsworthy, right?”

Taylor felt herself looking away.

“Taylor.” The name was delivered with a warning tone she was all too familiar with.

“Well, we might have been working on the Boardwalk,” Taylor said. “We have stalls and everything. It’s perfectly safe. And we make a pretty penny too.”

The dad eyed her. “You’re exploiting your sisters for money?” he asked.

Taylor crossed her arms. “I’m exploiting them for enough money to afford clothes, the rent, the food…. Do you have any idea how much they eat? And you can’t just buy the same things. Crochet likes spicy foods, but Alice will only eat things that are salty or sweet. Tattletail won’t step into the room if it smells like garlic.”

“Garlic is disgusting and should be expunged from this Earth,” Tattletail declared as if it was a straight fact.

“Remedy and Pop will eat nearly anything, thank god.” Taylor absently fixed Remedy’s hair, the little healer having found a seat for herself on the carpeted floor next to her. “And then there’s clothes. Cleaning products... I don’t think you want to know how much shampoo these girls use.” Taylor frowned. “That is, when I can convince them to take a shower.” She glared at Cheshire.

“Fuck you, I don’t want no water in my ears,” Cheshire bit back.

Taylor just gestured at her in a ‘see what I have to deal with’ sort of way. Her dad’s sympathetic wince was like a balm to her soul.

“I remember you being a little difficult about things when you were smaller. You hated carrots.”

“I couldn’t phase through walls or make the carrots go so far back in time that they ceased to exist,” Taylor pointed out. She shook her head. “No. we need the money. Not to mention the house.”

“I’m more than able to take care of the house’s mortgage, Taylor,” he said.

Taylor bit her lip. “Well, see, that’s nice, but this house, and don’t get me wrong, I love it, but there’re only so many rooms and.” She gestured to all the sisterssistas around her. “We’ve been piling up on the same bed every night dad. It’s tight. And warm. I’m kind of tired of waking up with knees and elbows all over me.”

“So we need a bigger house?” Her dad leaned back into his chair some more. “We can sell? It’ll... no, it’s doable. We can buy a place with a few more rooms, at least. I can see about clearing out the basement in the meantime? Maybe we can renovated it real quick to add a few rooms. You’d still be two or three to a room but--”

“Dibs!” three voices shouted at once, some with ‘on Big Sis’ room at the end.

Taylor cleared her throat. “Dad. I bought a house.”

“What?”

“With the money we made. Cape identities can do a lot of things that normal Talyor Hebert can’t, including buying property as long as the taxes are paid and all. It wasn’t too hard to gather all the money we needed.”

“But you bought a house?”

“It’s nice? It wasn’t at first, but Alice rolled it back a few decades. It’s very... retro, inside, but it works.”

She watched him rub at his face with both hands. “Is it in a nice neighbourhood?”

“It’s a neighbourhood that could be improved?” Taylor said. “I’m sure all the people around know that there are seven capes living a few houses down. That should get them to clean up their act.”

Shaking his head, her dad shifted around then got to his feet. “Okay. Let’s go see this place.”

“What?”

“Did you have an electrician check it? A plumber?”

“No, but the water works, and so does the power and such,” she said. “I called to get us hooked up.”

“And what if there’re lead pipes?” he asked.

“Remedy fixes us?” Taylor tried.

Her dad didn’t look amused. Remedy looked like she was trying not to look proud though, so she gave herself half-points. “We’re going to go see this place,” he said. “How do you even get there?”

“Walking, mostly.”

“Have you been sleeping there?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said.

He blinked. “And I never noticed?”

She shrugged. “I figured you thought we were off having a sleepover or something?”

“Like at Emmas?” Danny asked.

Taylor frowned. “Yeah, like I used to have at Emma’s.”

“Who’s Emma?” Tattletail asked.

Taylor patted her between the ears. Hopefully her most observant sister would catch on that Taylor didn’t want to talk about it.

“Right, well we can take the truck.”

***

Oh boy, here we go again!

New chapter due next week. Probably on Thursday or so, who knows! I'm juggling a couple of stories, but more on that next week!


	72. Chapter 72

Chapter Seventy

Taylor didn’t expect to feel as much apprehension as she did standing before her house with her dad next to her.

He was eyeing the building really carefully, gaze going from the wooden-panelled walls to the roof to the little patio that wrapped around the front. “Looks alright,” he said. “Tin roof?”

“Uh,” Taylor said. She looked up at the roof which... looked very rooflike. “Maybe?”

“Well, let’s go take a look then,” he said.

Taylor nodded and started walking towards the house. Some of her sisters darted ahead. Mostly Cheshire and Pop, the two most active of the sisters. Pop had a bit of an unfair advantage as she appeared next to the door, her clone jumping onto Cheshire to slow her down a moment before she faded into ash.

“Pop,” Taylor warned. “Don’t mess up the lawn. And don’t hurt your sister.”

“Yes, Onee-sama. Forgive me,” the girl said with a bow.

Cheshire reached the porch and phased right through the front door while Pop was busy bowing. Pop glared at the door, but instead of running after Cheshire she opened it for Taylor and her dad. “Please be welcome,” Pop said.

Taylor rubbed her head as she stepped in. “So, uh, this is the entrance hall,” she said.

Her dad nodded as he took in the room.

The door shut behind them and Pop flicked the light on. Then the other sisters started knocking just as Pop flicked the bolt in place.

“Pop,” Taylor warned.

“I don’t want Onee-sama to be distracted,” she said.

Taylor stared until she reached up and undid the latch.

The other sisters stumbled into the entrance and started complaining to Taylor and to Pop about how horrible Pop was. Taylor raised a hand until the protests died down. “I’m showing dad around. Can you guys try to behave for an hour or so? Just... don’t break anything, maybe?”

She got instant unanimous agreement which she trusted about as far as she could throw a fully dragon-ized Lung.

“This isn’t too bad,” her dad said as he looked around. The entrance hall was really little more than a space to take off shoes (which no one living there was keen on doing) and access to the stairs to the second floor.

“This is the living room,” Taylor said as she stepped to the left and opened a set of French doors. It opened up to a nice little area with a few couches covered in flower print and a floor covered in shag carpeting. An old 32’ television sat in the corner, bigger and heavier than any three sisters together.

“Wow,” her dad said. “This... brings me back.” He poked at one of the weirder sofas, one that was all angular and made of a plush lime-green material. “Looks like something from the Brady Bunch.”

“The what?” Tattletail asked.

“It’s... nevermind.”

“Yeah,” Taylor said. “It needs a bit of... sprucing up, I think. Anyway.” She gestured to an arch in the right-most wall of the living room that led into a dining area, a room as big as their living room back home but whose only furniture was an old wooden table and some chairs. There was enough room for eight. “This is the dining room.”

“Nice, nice,” he said as he looked around. There were a few nice paintings on the walls. A door led into the kitchen, another to a small bathroom, and a third led out towards the entrance hall.

There was a fourth door, one that all the sisters walked all the way around to avoid.

“What’s in there?”

Taylor rolled her eyes, moved over to the door and opened it to reveal a dark looming pit. She tugged at a rope hanging next to the door which lit an old, rather inefficient bulb hanging by its wires from above. It was enough to see the railless stairs leading down towards a stained cement floor. “Basement access,” she said. “There’s a pantry and the washer and dryer. I think they both need replacing though.”

“I can imagine,” he said. “What’s with them?” He pointed to the sisters who were casually standing behind the table.

“Scared of the dark, I think,” Taylor said.

“We’re not scared, we are proactively cautious,” Alice said. “And it’s not the dark that we’re cautious of, but the things within it.”

Danny laughed. “Right. That’s the kitchen?”

Taylor shut the door and moved over to the kitchen. It was nice enough, with a little island with some stools around it and all the amenities that could be expected from a kitchen. A nice big window gave a view of the front lawn and a set of sliding doors at the back gave access to the backyard.

“Nice enough,” her dad said. “The appliances will need some replacing, I think.” He poked the fridge, which was a small beige thing with a chrome band across its middle. “These things were tough though.”

“Tough is good,” Taylor said. “The water all works. The outlets seem okay. I’m, uh, not sure what the electrical bill will look like. Actually, I’m not sure if we’re connected or not, but we are getting power, so I guess so?”

“Going to need to look into that.”

“Yeah,” she said. “So, bedrooms?”

“Sure. Is there another bathroom?”

She nodded. “A bigger one, upstairs. We don’t really have enough rooms for all the sisters to have their own, so I thought we’d get them to bunk together. The rooms are big enough for it, I think.” She turned to her sisters. “Want to show him your rooms?” she asked.

There was a mad scramble for the stairs.

Her dad watched them all go, then turned to her. “You really have a handle on them,” he said.

“Kinda need to.”

He grinned, then patted her head. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

Taylor tried not to flush as she walked by. “Yeah, well... thanks.”

***

Something-something check out my book?

Also, check out Stray Cat Strut (On Royal Roads!) It's a new story I've been working on for a little bit about... honestly, just give it a look. It's probably one of the weirdest things I've ever written.


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